The Modern Mother's Day Survival Guide
by Laina Lee
Summary: This women-centric story focuses on motherhood, the loss of moms and children, substitute moms, the desire for children, and contrasts good and bad moms, within the frame of successive Mother's Day weekends. Mary, Georgiana, Lady C, Lizzy, Richard's daughter (Lacey), and the Wickham children feature. The story includes a Mary-Richard romance after his failed marriage to Caroline.
1. Don't Think About Your Dead Mother

_This is a short modern piece set in the USA, which is dedicated to women everywhere who have a hard time on Mother's Day.  
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**Chapter One: ****Don't Think About Your Dead Mother; Focus On Your Children Instead_  
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Georgiana Darcy Jones was busy shopping on the night before Mother's Day. She had to purchase all of her family's regular groceries and the ingredients for the dinner her husband would be making for her and her mother-in-law, along with picking out a card for her mother-in-law. Georgiana did not feel like shopping or doing anything. Mother's Day made her sad every year when she thought about her own mother. She knew her husband would have done all the shopping had she asked, but Georgiana thought she did a better job shopping in general than her husband.

Georgiana never knew what to ask for when her children asked what to buy her. Typically she named whatever she thought was easiest for them to get that would not cost too much. If she could have, she would have just ignored the whole day. Her children had gotten used to seeing her cry on Mother's Day, though she did her best not to cry as she did not want to ruin their efforts. Somehow in the middle of the drive to the grocery store, even though it wasn't Mother's Day yet, Georgiana found herself crying. She would give anything to still have her mother with her, but it just wasn't possible. F***ing cancer! She spent a few minutes crying in the parking lot, but after blowing her nose a few times managed to get herself calmed down.

It wasn't so bad when she was in the produce department and picking out different kinds of apples. It wasn't so bad when she was in the seafood department and comparing the prices of the lobster tails her older son really wanted (too expensive), with the crab legs. It wasn't so bad when she was selecting her younger son's cereals. She really didn't mind seeing the other families pushing around their children in grocery carts. It did not particularly make her think of her mom, as she was too old to sit in the cart when her mom passed. However, seeing baby girls always brought a bit of longing to her as though she loved her two boys she had always wanted a daughter but her husband had long ago declared them done.

What undid her in the grocery story was when she passed children clutching flowers, balloons and talking excitedly about what else to get their moms. Georgiana wanted to be one of those happy, smiling children again, to have the simple joy of giving her mother something. She recalled a clay angel she had made for her mother one year in school. The angel was lopsided, disproportional and a rather pitiful and ugly effort, but her mother had rewarded Georgiana with a large smile, a big hug, and had placed the angel in a place of honor in the bookcase in her office.

Georgiana pulled herself together enough and resumed her shopping. The healthcare aisles were safe enough. Razors, pads, toothpaste, Chapstick. But then it was time to find a card for her mother-in-law. Georgiana found herself in front of one of the square displays of cards. She wanted to find a funny card but not an offensive one. She would not buy a card with a lot of false sentiments that did not reflect how Steve felt about his mom. She and her husband Steve had a difficult time with his mother. Sylvia was always interfering in their lives and telling them how to raise their sons. This would not be nearly so annoying if not for the fact that Sylvia had been abusive to Steve and his brothers but conveniently forgot how each of them had moved out in the middle of high school. The stories Steve had told her were right out of a Lifetime movie about "Psycho Mom" in the lead up to when she went completely nuts. Of course Sylvia had never gone completely nuts and was a bit better on the modern medications.

Georgiana tried to be patient with Sylvia, but it was difficult. On Georgiana's wedding day, for all of Georgiana's joy in marrying the man she loved, she missed having her mom with her. Every milestone she experienced, she always had in the back of her head how it might be different if her mother was there. She had even cried in the church's dressing room when her aunt was helping her get into her gown.

Aunt Fitzwilliam had hugged her and said, "Now dear, what is this all about? You know if you have any doubts you don't have to go through with it. That's what I told my daughters when they got married and I'm sure your mother would have told you the same thing."

"Would she have, do you think?" Georgiana asked, trying to picture whether her mother would have in fact given her that advice. Of course she knew that if her mother had been there she would not have been crying right then. "Oh, aunt, I do not have any doubts about Steve, I am just missing my mother. You have been wonderful, but I wish she were here."

"I wish she were, too, my dear. She did not want to leave you or William, or your father, but you know that in the end it was a mercy. She would be proud of the woman you have become. Now see if you can dry your tears, today is supposed to be a happy day."

Georgiana met Fitzwilliam outside the dressing room. He told her, "Oh Georgiana, you look so beautiful. Steve is a lucky guy. Just don't forget that you love your brother a little too."

"I won't," she reassured him. As if anyone could replace Fitzwilliam. "Is everyone in there?"

"Yes, Aunt De Bourgh is in high form today, but Richard and Anne promise they will keep her from embarrassing you."

Just then Georgiana heard the strains of the adagio she was going to walk down the aisle to. Lizzy was playing it, just as they had arranged, though of course Lizzy had told her, "I know you can't play the piano at your own wedding, but I am not going to sound nearly as good as you would."

"Are you ready?" Her brother asked.

"Yes, Brother." She gave Fitzwilliam her brightest smile and tried to focus on the fact that she was finally getting married. It was all real. All her dreams were coming true. By the time Fitzwilliam walked her down the aisle, she was nothing but smiles.

Georgiana had managed to pull herself together and focus on Steve during the ceremony, but a few times during the day her aunt noticed a little wistful expression on her niece's face and knew just what it was.

Most of the guests were finished eating and Steve and Georgiana were separately circulating and talking with their guests when her new mother-in-law Sylvia came over to Georgiana. Sylvia did not wait for Georgiana to finish talking to her elderly great aunt before she grabbed at Georgiana, and when Georgiana turned told her, "What a wonderful day this has been. I am pleased that you finally got married, rather than continuing to live in sin."

Georgiana felt herself blush. Sylvia was very loud and it was embarrassing to have her business bandied about in front of everyone. In fact, Georgiana and Steve had only been sharing the same apartment for a couple of weeks as it did not seem to make sense to keep paying on two leases and it was easier to consolidate their lives before their wedding than to wait until after their honeymoon. But she did not want to make too big of a deal about her mother-in-law's comment and have Sylvia try to argue that she was right. Fortunately Georgiana saw her opportunity to make her escape as the wedding coordinator was signaling to her.

"If you will excuse me Sylvia, I need to find Steve so we can cut the cake."

"What's this 'Sylvia' business? Georgiana, you are my daughter now; you really ought to call me Mom."

Georgiana sweetly replied, "It is lucky I am not actually your daughter, or how could I have married Steve?"

"Very funny, dear, but still, I really want you to call me Mom." Sylvia had her hands on her hips and looked seriously put out. Georgiana who was by far too nice of a person, was tempted to just agree to head off a potential argument, but Steve had told her that she needed to stand up to Sylvia or she would be walked all over. Georgiana really wished Steve was there in this moment to support her.

"I will stick with Sylvia or Mrs. Jones if you don't mind."

"But I do, it isn't as if you have a mother anymore."

When Georgiana had heard those words, she felt the pain she had been holding at bay ripple across her chest. She felt tears well up and chanted to herself in her mind, "I will not cry; I will not cry."

Fortunately, Steve must have seen that something was wrong because he was instantly at Georgiana's side. "We've got to go, love, that cake won't cut itself. Let's make a deal; I won't shove cake into your face if you won't either." Steve smiled a silly little grin at Georgiana. As they had already agreed to a dignified eating of the cake, and Steve was a man of his word, Georgiana knew she had nothing to fear. She smiled back a little and a bit of the pressure on her chest lessened and she felt the tears travel from her eyes to her nose. She sniffed them up and with her head held high proceeded with the cake cutting.

After the cake cutting, she noticed her brother seemed to be having some quite words with her mother-in-law.

Later, at the fancy hotel room at which they were spending their wedding night before flying to the French countryside, Steve asked, "Do you want to talk about it? I know my mother did something."

Georgiana told him what Sylvia said.

"Oh, wow. That is terrible. I am sure you were missing your mother a lot today and my mom had to rub it in, salt in wounds and such. She was probably mad that the attention wasn't all on her today. I tell you, I could care less if you ever call her Mom. She really doesn't deserve to be called Mom by me, let alone you."

At the grocery store Georgiana kept looking at card after card. She would not buy a card for Sylvia which called her "best mother" "most wonderful mother" or talked about all she did and sacrificed. Georgiana wished her mother was still alive; any of these sorts of cards would have been apt for her own mother. For a moment Georgiana toyed with buying one of those cards and placing it on her mother's grave. It wasn't really practical as her mother's grave was on the other side of the country.

Finally Georgiana found a card with a cute pug that resembled Sylvia's pug which was generic enough about mothers in general that she felt might do. She dreaded having to have Sylvia over for hours on the following day.

On the drive home Georgiana cried a bit more. When she arrived in the garage she was surprised to see the door into the house ajar. Her husband and sons were waiting for her to unload the groceries. Her older son saw her wet eyes and immediately gave her a hug. "It is okay, Mom. Are you thinking about Grandma?"

"Yes, I am," Georgiana admitted.

"I miss Grandma, too," he said sweetly.

"But you never knew her."

"It doesn't matter, Mom, you've told me all about her and I know I would have liked her."

One more time Georgiana's tears dried. She let herself get caught up in the hustle and bustle of getting groceries put away and hearing of what her sons had been up to while she was gone. That night when she went to bed, she resolved that tomorrow would be a good day if she had anything to say about it. She deserved it and her sons deserved it, too.


	2. Find Fulfillment in Helping Other People

**Chapter 2: ****Find Fulfillment in Helping Other People's Children **

Mary got up early on Mother's Day. She did not normally give piano lessons on Sundays (and certainly not at 8 am), but ten year old Lottie Long (the daughter of the former Maria Lucas) was eager to have one more lesson before performing the piece she had been working on for the past two months for her mother. Lottie was already impatiently knocking at Mary's private entrance (she lived in an apartment above her parents' garage) at 7:58.

"What is the hurry, Lottie?" Mary asked as she opened the door, holding it wide enough that Lottie could wheel her bike inside which Lottie had hauled up the stairs.

"Willie wants to make Mom's breakfast in bed and serve it at exactly 9. I have to leave here at exactly 8:53 to make it back in time."

"Well then lets get right to it," Mary declared.

They spent the next thirty minutes practicing the piece. Lottie already had it perfect, but she was worried about the dynamics and whether she could make it sound just right.

Mary could tell the subtle differences Lottie was after, but doubted that Mrs. Long would be able to do so. She stopped the lesson right at half an hour, even though they normally practiced for fifty minutes, so she could to talk to Lottie. "You've got the piece perfect and even if you made a mistake I am sure your mother would love it."

"Do you really think so?" Lottie asked doubtfully.

"Of course, Lottie! Do you know how excited your mother was to have you? I remember how when people asked whether she wanted a girl or a boy she gave the standard, 'as long as the baby is healthy,' response, but I know the truth. As much as she loves Willie, she was really hoping that her second child would be a girl. I've seen all the delight she takes in you, how much she loves being your mom. You could come home and play Mary Had a Little Lamb to accompany her breakfast in bed and she would still love it."

Lottie smiled, gave Mary a hug and offered Mary the ten dollars she had promised for the early morning lesson.

"That's okay, Lottie. I was just glad to help you this morning. Get your mother some flowers or something."

"Really?" Lottie checked her watch. "I think I have enough time to ride to the convenience store. Thanks so much Ms. Bennet."

Later that day, Mary skipped the church service. She couldn't bear to hear one more thing about how blessed everyone was to have their mothers and that's what happened every year at the church she attended with her parents. Although Mary normally played piano at church to accompany the choir, for this Mother's Day they had a string quartet made up of two brothers and two sisters playing instead. She had heard the violinist had recently moved to town. It would have been nice to hear them but she wasn't going to attend today. It was nice that she had not even had to arrange for a substitute, but she hoped they played again sometime. She went to see her aunt, Mrs. Philips, instead.

Aunt Philips did not seem to be surprised that Mary had turned up. "How are you doing this year, Mary?" Aunt Philips asked.

"Fine, I guess. But it is hard. I turn forty this year, so I don't suppose I will ever get married and have children. Do you know that a few months back I asked my gynecologist about whether it was too late to have children, you know if I somehow magically found the right guy, and she did some blood testing. She told me it wasn't impossible, but my hormone levels are no longer normal and I probably don't ovulate every month anymore. She told me it was fine to try but I might need invetro and maybe even donor eggs. You know I don't want to be a single mom, but I always thought it was maybe a possibility, still."

"It was hard for me, too, when I realized that I wasn't going to have any children," Aunt Philips admitted, "but you know it just made me more devoted to you and your sisters."

"Yes, I know, but they've all left to go on with their own lives far away from Mom and her drama. It is just you and me left behind."

"But do you know, Mary, that I've been grateful that you didn't go, too. You've always been my favorite."

"That can't be true, Aunt." Mary looked skeptical. "You always seemed to have the most fun with Kitty and Lydia."

"Okay, so maybe you haven't always been my favorite, but as the years have gone on and they went and you stayed, I feel like we've formed the closest relationship." Aunt Philips pulled Mary into a hug. "You know I think of you like a daughter, don't you?"

"I'm glad that someone does. I wish you were my mother sometimes. Mom is always going on and on about Lizzy's wealth, Lydia's world traveling to all those army bases with her husband, Catherine's fashion designs and Jane's brood of six children. Everyone but me has given her grandchildren. Everyone else has moved on and now that Mom and Dad are older, I think I will live here until they die."

"If you want to go, too, you have my blessing. I can always help take care of your parents if something were to happen, but they are still healthy and going strong."

"I know you are right, but I've never wanted to go very far. Maybe I should have gone to college in another state and picked a more practical major. Maybe then I would have met the perfect guy, have a great job and now have the requisite 2.3 children."

Mary thought about how humbling it had been to study piano as a music major and to learn how she was a mere beginner next to some of the other pianists. It had been hard work to improve her skills, humbling to ask for help and difficult to give up on her unrealistic dream of being a concert pianist. But at least she could be proud of the level of proficiency she had achieved.

"Maybe," Aunt Philips answered, "but maybe you would have married a prick like Lydia's husband. Who knows how many times he has cheated on her? Not Lydia! Maybe you would be stressed out all the time like Kitty with those impossible deadlines, I don't even know how many emergency meetings Jane has had at the twins' school to address all their special needs. Life isn't always greener on the other side. And don't forget that if you are dealing with a bratty child that you always get to send them home after fifty minutes and can even stop giving them lessons."

"I know that is all true, but most of them are very sweet and a joy to work with. That Lottie Long might be a concert pianist one day if she keeps it up, but I bet in a couple of years she will start thinking too much about boys to care about piano anymore."

"Maybe, maybe not. You help shape a lot of young people with what you do."

"You did too, with being a teacher, Aunt Philips."

Aunt Philips nodded, "Yes, I used to tell everyone that I had hundreds, thousands of kids over the years, even though I didn't have any at home, but it still hurts sometimes. It was a new sort of pain when all my friends became Grammies, Nanas and the like. You know, it is okay to mourn what you don't have."

"I know. Still, I've wondered. Why didn't you and uncle ever adopt?" Mary knew that Aunt Philips had become infertile after some heavy duty chemo and radiation which had saved her life. She'd been sick before she ever met Uncle Philips.

"I suppose we could have. We talked about it. You know, it was really hard to tell him when we were dating that I couldn't have children, but he was great about it. Maybe if back then they had these new technologies where they can harvest and freeze eggs I might have delayed my treatment to do that. Of course I wouldn't had the money . . . I think it just never seemed like the right time. Your uncle was so focused on his career and I kept myself busy with teaching. Also, I heard those horror stories about those birth mothers who change their minds at the last second."

"Have you ever regretted not going that route?" Mary asked, searching her aunt's face.

"Of course I have off and on. On days like Mother's Day I always regret it. But I think God had another plan for my life and that's okay. What about you, Mary? You could adopt. I hear some of those foreign countries let single women adopt."

"I've thought about it, but I really don't have the money to adopt or to raise a child afterwards." Mary shrugged.

"If money is the only thing standing in your way, I'm sure your uncle and I could help, though I wouldn't know the exact amount we could contribute without discussing it with him. I bet Jane and especially Lizzy could do something, too. I know that Lizzy has paid a lot to help Lydia out over the years."

"Yes, but money isn't really the only reason I haven't gone that route. I think when it comes down to it, I really don't want to be a single mother."

Aunt Philips smiled, "So we've solved nothing today?"

"Not a thing!" Mary replied with a smile. "You are still coming over for dinner at Mom's tonight, aren't you?"

"Of course. I wouldn't miss your enchiladas for the world."

"I hope Mom isn't bored that I am making them again this year. We all like them and two years ago when I made that fancier dinner she spent the whole time complaining that she'd only talked to Lydia on Mother's Day. And I know for a fact that she was the one who called Lydia and my other sisters had all sent her nice gifts. She didn't seem to appreciate the truffle sauce or the steaks."

"Yes, I remember that year. She was in high form. You know that last year I called all your sisters the night before Mother's Day and asked that they call her the next day. Do you remember how they all did?"

"Yes, do you think you need to call them again this year?"

"Not a bad idea, but maybe I will be all modern and text them this time, just in case they are at church."

"Good idea. But you'd better make sure they know that they aren't to text her. She would flip out if she only got a text instead of hearing their voices. Are you still able to make dessert for tonight?"

"Already done. I baked the cheese cake last night and I've got the loveliest fresh strawberries to pair it with. Aldi had quite the sale."

Mary and Aunt Philips exchanged one more hug and Mary went back to her apartment. She had lunch and then spent a couple of hours playing the piano before she went to her mother's kitchen to start preparing dinner.

Her mother walked into the kitchen. "Ah there you are Mary. Did you sleep in? You were missed at church."

"No Mom, I went to see Aunt Philips."

"Oh Mary, you should have been there to meet the violinist. He is about fifty and single. I imagine he is quite the catch, having just retired from the army after twenty years of service, having risen to General and all. I have it from Mrs. Lucas that his wife ran out on him after she became pregnant with another man's child. Can you imagine? I told him I was simply counting on him to come back next week and told him how much he would enjoy meeting you. I even showed him a picture of you on my i-phone."

"Which picture, Mom?" Mary was suddenly filled with dread. The most recent picture her mom had taken of her was when she had let Jane's youngest daughter apply her makeup. Mary had thought she resembled nothing so much as a cross between a street walker and a circus clown.

"The one of you with the choir of course! I may have told him about that last picture I took of you though . . . But I didn't show it to him. He wanted to see it of course, but I say, leave them wanting more. Do you know that he told me his daughter (she's five and he has custody, he moved to Meryton so that she would have more family around) got spanked by her mother for touching her makeup one time? She sounds like a real piece of work. His name is Richard Fitzwilliam, by the way. He may not be the most handsome of men but he has the most charming manners."

Mary let her mother prattle on and on while she shredded the chicken that had been cooking in the crock-pot, assembled the enchiladas and made the Spanish rice. Her mother had not given up on her matchmaking, had not given up on Mary meeting the perfect life, so why should she?


	3. Someone Else Always Has It Worse

**Chapter 3: Someone Else Always Has It Worse**

Elizabeth was busy cleaning her house on Mother's Day. Lady Catherine De Bourgh (or Lady Catherine as she still insisted on being called by Elizabeth, through Fitzwilliam and the children were allowed to call her Aunt Catherine) was coming from two hours away to attend dinner. She was known to extensively criticize Elizabeth if so much as a book was out of place. The Darcy ancestral home was way too big for any one person to clean as so naturally there was a staff that did that, but Elizabeth couldn't see making anyone come in Mother's Day just to clean for her, so she was busy wiping down the table where her son's spilled grape juice had congealed and then afterwards was wiping down the antique wooden furniture.

Her husband had taken the children out and Elizabeth was supposed to be taking it easy, but as Willie (that was Elizabeth's pet name for her husband) did not seem to see messes and dust the same way Elizabeth did. So instead of reading a book or surfing the web, Elizabeth was preparing. She thought if she hurried, she might have time for a nice bubble bath as Willie had suggested.

At least she did not have to worry about the meal. It was catered and would be arriving right at five. Elizabeth checked the clock. She had about three hours to make sure any actual evidence her home was lived in to be eradicated by five-thirty, when Lady Catherine was expected to arrive.

Finally when Elizabeth was satisfied, she checked the clock again. She was pleased as it looked as if she had a whole two hours before Lady Catherine was due to arrive. Elizabeth was just making her way to the front staircase to go take that bath when she felt her foot slip in something. She looked down and saw to her horror that she had just stepped in dog sh*t. And it was not normal dog sh*t but horrible runny diarrhea. It was streaked across the expensive area rug (if a rug that was sized twenty feet by 35 feet could still be called an area rug) that Lady Catherine had gifted them for a wedding present several months after their wedding, when she had finally made peace rather than have Willie exclude her from their lives.

Elizabeth could still recall how Lady Catherine had strode into their foyer, with four uniformed men behind her, bearing the enormous rolled rug. "Darcy, I have decided to forgive you for marrying this . . . this lovely young woman." The expression on Lady Catherine's face as she said these words was as pleasant as that of a vegetarian who was struggling to choke down a bite of steak to avoid offending someone.

"To show my goodwill, I am gifting you with an exact handmade replica of the rug in my home, but resized to fit your foyer." She snapped her fingers and the uniformed men (who were all at least six foot six and incredibly fit and handsome), pulled off the craft paper wrapping, unrolled the rug and (with one man at each corner) maneuvered the rug until it was arranged to her liking.

Elizabeth did not especially like the rug (which was orange, brown and cream), thought it was truly hideous in fact, but was too well mannered to let any hint of her true feelings about the rug escape. Elizabeth would much rather have seen the polished flagstones that formed the foyer floor. They were sealed and much more practical than a rug to her mind.

She and Willie had decided the best thing to do was to keep the rug in storage between Aunt Catherine's visits. In the last couple of years her visits had dwindled to only once or twice a year as Lady Catherine did not like to leave Anne and Anne was very ill.

After the second visit in which Lady Catherine had spent at least twenty minutes having her own servants rearrange the rug to the exact perfect spot, Elizabeth had marked the corners with painter's tape so that the next time they would be prepared. Before any visit from Lady Catherine they dutifully had it placed in the exact spot that Lady Catherine had decreed was optimal. The rug had just been placed in the foyer two days earlier after being retrieved storage.

The dog feces were sprayed right across a cream-colored section of the rug, rather than more aptly on the dark brown section of the rug. Elizabeth felt like crying. Willie had asked her to do her best with Lady Catherine this year as Anne had passed away only a few months earlier and this would be Lady Catherine's first Mother's Day without her. Knowing that when Lady Catherine was upset she was even more controlling and critical had Elizabeth worried about simply having the rug removed (if she could have even shifted the enormous monstrosity which was a thick pile of hand-knotted wool).

But first things first. Elizabeth rounded up the dog (an adorable but elderly Pembroke Welsh Corgi) and placed her outside in the only portion of the yard that was fenced (Lady Catherine had criticized them fencing any portion of the yard and thought they should hire a full-time dog tender instead, just as she had suggested that they obtain a full-time nanny for each child). She really hoped that Rosie hadn't eaten anything too terrible.

Next, Elizabeth googled, "How to clean a wool rug with dog poop." The first result helpfully suggested what she would need which included baking soda, white vinegar, dish washing detergent and water. Elizabeth followed the step-by-step guide and amazingly enough was able to get the rug clean before five (though the rug was still wet, it was not too noticeable). Unfortunately for her, however, she did not have any time to have even so much as a shower before the door rang. It was the caterers, who efficiently placed the trays of food that needed to be kept warm into her oven.

Once that was done, Elizabeth was just about ready to head for the shower when Willie arrived home with the children. Her youngest, Cole, who had just turned five, was crying and his face was a mess of snot. "What happened Cole?"

"Mike and Reggie were being mean! I was trying to pick you flowers but they told me to throw them away, that they were weeds. Daddy said you would like them, though. Jane is holding them for me."

Jane dutifully walked forward and placed the bouquet into Elizabeth's hands. There were a few wild daisies, incongruously a rose that Cole must have swiped from someone's yard, but the bulk were dandelions, two of which had gone to seed. How Jane had succeeded in keeping them from blowing off, Elizabeth did not know (but she did see a couple of stems where the white fluff was missing.

"Of course I like them Cole," she tried to reassure him. "I will put them in my bathroom so that I can look at them every day."

"But Mommy, they are for the dinner table, for your special dinner."

Elizabeth and Willie exchanged glances which said, "I don't want to put them there, your aunt will have a fit" and "if you don't put them there, Cole may be completely unreasonable for the rest of the day."

"These are too special for the dinner table," Elizabeth tried once more, "Cole, do you see these white fluffy ones? I am afraid they will fly away if Aunt Catherine sneezes."

"Then those can go in your bathroom, but the rest need to go on the table. I am the only one who got you a present. Mike and Reggie spent their allowance on Monster Energy Drinks and Jane isn't done making your-" Jane elbowed him when he would have spilled the beans.

"Okay Cole," Elizabeth reassured him. "But the table is really big and all my vases are too. Maybe Jane can help you get some roses from our rose garden. Jane, you know where I keep my sheers, right?" She hoped that if Cole got more roses that she might be able to dispose of or at least conceal the dandelions behind the roses. If Lady Catherine had not been in attendance, Elizabeth would not have cared.

"Okay Mommy."

"I'll help him."

When they were well away, Elizabeth was just about to tell Willie about the dog debacle, when the doorbell rang. "I wonder if the caterers forgot something," Elizabeth voiced. They both rushed out into the foyer only to see Lady Catherine who was at least twenty minutes early.

"Hello, Lady Catherine," Elizabeth greeted her, more self conscious than ever about her appearance. She was just wearing a t-shirt and shorts as she had been cleaning. "We weren't expect you yet."

Lady Catherine looked her up and down. "Clearly." Though she made no additional comment, her tightly pulled face bespoke her disapproval loudly.

Elizabeth excused herself and quietly asked if Willie could get the kids to change and dress for dinner. She took a record-breaking shower. She dressed in a dress that she thought Lady Catherine would like and quickly put on a bit of makeup. She was just making her way down the stairs when she was greeted by the sight of Cole playing with Rosie on the self same rug that Rosie had earlier soiled.

"Oh Cole, Rosie really needs to go back outside."

"But she is so much happier inside. Mommy, why did you leave her outside? She was lonely out there."

Jane looked apologetic, "He got completely distracted from getting roses when he saw Rosie."

"That's all right Jane, but we really need to get Rosie outside. Her tummy was bothering her earlier and she messed on the rug before."

However, no sooner were the words out of Elizabeth's mouth than, splooooooch, diarrhea shot out of Rosie's back end. This time it sprayed not only the rug, but Cole besides.

"Oh dear Lord!" Elizabeth exclaimed. She would much rather have let out a loud explicative, but knew if she did undoubtedly Lady Catherine would hear and later disparage her uncouth language. Lady Catherine was all about proper language (Willie thought she took on strange airs from being married to a British nobleman). Elizabeth was glad that Darcy had not been raised by his aunt.

However, even her, "Oh dear Lord!" must have been too much, because Lady Catherine suddenly was back in the room, taking in the whole scene.

"What is that beast doing in here and what has she done to my beautiful rug?" Lady Catherine looked quite put out.

"I'll take Rosie out right now, Mom," Jane said, pulling the dog along by her collar.

Cole only now seemed to notice the long brown streak along his pants and the drips on his hand. "Ew! Gross!" He rubbed his dirty hand on the rug and then lifted up an edge of the rug and began to rub the poop off his pants onto the corner of the rug.

"Stop Cole!" Elizabeth yelled too late.

"Oh it is ruined, absolutely ruined!" Lady Catherine exclaimed. She looked absolutely heartbroken and her eyes filled with tears.

"I've got to get Cole cleaned up," Elizabeth exclaimed, taking the coward's way out. She was prepared for an angry or snobby Lady Catherine, not a tearful one. She scooped Cole up (making sure his stained pants were facing well away from her) and ran up the stairs.

Elizabeth took her time helping Cole bathe and dress. She was in a decently good mood by the time they both came down the stairs. The sight that greeted both was that the rug was now rolled up and on one side of the foyer.

They found the rest of the family in the formal living room that they only used when Lady Catherine visited. It had all the antique wooden furniture which Elizabeth was dusting earlier. Elizabeth did not expect to see Lady Catherine crying while Willie rubbed her back.

"That rug was Anne's favorite design and now it is ruined." She was explaining. "Anne is the one who picked out the rug in our home. She liked it so much, but when the two of you got married, she said we should give it to you but I didn't want her to be without it, which is why I had it replicated."

Elizabeth could not stand to see Lady Catherine crying. Perhaps she would hate herself in the morning, but she calmly told her, "I don't think the rug is ruined. Rosie messed on it earlier today and I was able to get it all out with baking soda, vinegar, dish detergent and water, but it must be treated right away."

Lady Catherine watched as Elizabeth (with Willie's help) unrolled the rug and then set to work cleaning it. By the time it was ready to be left to dry, the table was set, the vase with Cole's flowers placed on the table, and the dinner laid out, the meat had dried out and the soup had gotten a rather thick skin.

However, it was the most pleasant meal that Elizabeth and Willie could remember having with Lady Catherine. She told Elizabeth, "Thank you for working so hard to save Anne's rug. It means a lot to me."

Lady Catherine was mostly silent for the rest of the meal and made no comment about the unusual flower arrangement.

That night after Lady Catherine had left and the Darcys were in bed, Willie told Elizabeth, "Now we will never be free of that monstrosity of a rug."

"I know," Elizabeth commented, "but I think it was worth it to make Lady Catherine feel better. I don't want her to think that any of us will forget Anne."

"The sad thing is," Willie responded, "that Aunt Catherine has it all wrong. Anne did not really like that rug. She told me that her mother was pestering her to pick out a rug and she said she liked it just to be done with it all and didn't even really realize what she'd recommended until the rug was in their home. She told that it was the ugliest rug she had ever seen. She told me she was joking with her mother that the rug should be sent to us for a present, thinking that if Aunt Catherine sent it I would have a good laugh at how she had gotten it pawned off on us. But Aunt Catherine didn't realize she was joking. She apologized to me when she found out about her mother paying all that money to get us an exact replica."

"Well, look," Elizabeth said, "that may not be the way Lady Catherine remembers it, but you, too, have a good story to help you remember Anne that goes with that rug. Someday when our kids are grown we can tell them all about it. That gives it a certain amount of sentimental feeling, doesn't it?"

"I wish Anne was still around. I have a feeling she would be very amused by what Rosie did to it. She might even say that was an improvement."

"I will have to disagree with you that smelly poop improved it, but I am sure we will laugh about all of this some day."

That night after Willie was snoring, Elizabeth was still wide awake. She thought about how blessed she was with her four children and to have such a loving husband. She felt bad for Lady Catherine, now living by herself save for servants in that cavernous house. She imagined how quiet it was, without a husband or a daughter. But then she remembered that her cousin Will Collins worked for Lady Catherine and thought she could do no wrong. She knew that Lady Catherine occasionally invited Will and his wife Charlotte to eat dinner with her.

She hoped that they had grown closer since Anne had passed. She had no doubt that Lady Catherine could be the Collinses' children's honorary grandmother if she so desired. Elizabeth concluded that if Lady Catherine was all alone it was her own doing. After that, Elizabeth was able to settle herself down.

Her last thoughts as she drifted off was that she really should have put Cole's clothes in the washing machine before the poop had dried and that if Rosie wasn't better by morning she might have to take her to the vet. That was a mother's life; her work was never done.


	4. Have No Children And Still Single?

_Thank you to all my kind reviewers: debu, nanciellen, Jansfamily4, ANovick, IsAndia, krimpetgirl, RegencyGirl17, abujoe and Sooty85. It is great to have my reliable reviewers supporting me for a new story and to have new reviewers, too. Check out my other stories if you haven't already._

_I am not going to get into the whys behind it, but this chapter is dedicated to every woman (and that is probably all of us) who has ever had what she is capable of doing be underestimated by well meaning folks. _

**Chapter 4: Have No Children And Still Single? In Your 40s? Consider Becoming A Step-Mom  
**

One year later, Lady Catherine insisted she wanted to host a Mother's Day dinner for her near relatives and a few local families. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Georgiana Jones had agreed to attend the dinner and come for a visit over the weekend with their families even though they did not think it would be the kind of relaxed vacation and meal they would most enjoy. Fitzwilliam agreed to attend because despite all his aunt had put him through over the years, she was still his mother's sister, he still loved her and he knew she had endured and survived many major losses (that of her parents, that of her husband, that of a son who had died of childhood leukemia, that of her sister and most recently that of her daughter). A lesser woman might have collapsed under the weight of all of those losses, but Aunt Catherine had not. If anything, she was more determined, more stubborn and more imperious than ever.

Georgiana agreed to attend because she welcomed a change from having to host her mother-in-law. While to other people Lady Catherine De Bourgh might not seem at first glance to be an improvement to Sylvia (Sylvia had a way of appearing to be the kindest type of person when you first met her, it was only after you knew her for a while that you gradually found out the truth about her), Georgiana had felt the despite how much her aunt had tried to manage her life that her aunt did genuinely love her. Either Sylvia could spend the day alone or one of Steve's brother's could step up and invite her. For once it was not Georgiana's and Steve's problem.

Richard had planned on seeing his own mother at his brother's home as his daughter Lacey was scheduled to be with her mother, but her mother Caroline never arrived Friday to pick Lacey up. Richard repeatedly tried Caroline's cell: calling, leaving voicemails, and texting.

Finally at 4 am, Carolina texted: "Sorry, last minute Aruba vacation. She sent a picture of herself darkly tanned and wearing a yellow string bikini with her arm draped around some man. "Tell Lacey Mommy will see her next month."

Richard saw the messages when he got up to use the bathroom at 5:32 am. All hope of further sleep fled when he saw her messages. Rather than blasting her (he had long ago decided it was counterproductive and a waste of his time as Caroline would not, could not change as she genuinely liked the way she was living or had convinced herself that she did), he simply texted back, "OK."

He was angry on Lacey's behalf and texted his girlfriend of ten months at 5:39 am, not expecting an immediate answer: "Caroline is a piece of work."

At 6:12 am his girlfriend answered, "What did she do now?"

"Ditched Mother's Day weekend with Lacey for Aruba with her latest fling."

"Oh no! How is Lacey taking it?"

"She doesn't know yet. When Mommy Dearest didn't pick her up tonight and I couldn't reach her, I told her Mommy was probably getting her in the morning."

"Oh, no, poor Lacey."

"Yup. A couple of days ago Lacey brought home from school a whole bunch of things she had made for Caroline. She was so excited to wrap them."

"Would it help if I took you both out for ice cream later?"

"Maybe. She is waking up now. Gotta go."

Mary went to the gym and then began giving her Saturday morning piano lessons. She tried not to think about Richard and Lacey.

Richard had been very protective of Lacey when they first met. He had explained to Mary, as he was asking her out on a first date, "There is something I need you to know before we got on a date. I don't go out on dates when I have Lacey and I have her almost all the time except when she is at school. Her mother has time-sharing and is supposed to see her a lot, but in practice the most she sees her is one day a week for an overnight and every other weekend; however, Lacey is lucky if her mom even calls her once a week and usually only sees her one or two days a month. Lacey gets confused enough with her mom's boyfriends so I am not going to ever introduce her to someone I am dating unless it gets serious. Every couple of weeks I might have her grandmother or one of her aunts watch her, but I am not going to have her be pawned off on a whole bunch of babysitters like her mom used to do. I hope you can understand."

Mary did understand. One of her students had a mother who had confided in Mary one day that she had simply decided not to date anyone until her daughter was eighteen years old. It was her way of showing her daughter that she was her number one priority. "I don't want men coming into and out of her life. It takes quite a bit of time to find the 'right one' and I thought my husband was the 'right one' and I was wrong about him and I'm not going to put Emily through that again. Also, the number one molester of little girls is mom's new boyfriend or husband."

Mary told Richard, "I do understand and I respect that. I also appreciate you being upfront about that fact." She did her best to silence that little voice whispering in her head that if Richard could only go out a couple of times a month that it would take forever to find out whether they might be good together and that time was running out for her to ever have a chance to have biological children.

Mary had been lost the first time she met Richard. When they talked for a few minutes after church (her mother had been even more eager to introduce her after she learned from Mrs. Lucas who always learned everything first, that Richard was actually Mrs. Bennet's son-in-law Fitzwilliam Darcy's cousin and had married her other son-in-law's sister, Caroline Bingley) they had that "small world" talk. He had made her laugh and had looked deeply into her eyes with his light blue eyes. Mary felt her breath hitch and had to do her best to focus on the conversation to not come off sounding like an idiot. Richard was not what one could call conventionally handsome. He had a crooked nose that was probably the casualty of some fist fight that had never been properly tended to and his smile was a bit uneven, but he made you forget all of that with how well he entertained you. His sandy hair was mixed with some white along his temple and sideburns and she could see some white in his stubble, too, but she didn't care.

During that first date, after laughing at Richard's anecdotes, Mary had said, "You know, you don't have to spend all of your time trying to entertain me. I really want to know more about what you are dealing with. I know it can't be easy retiring, moving and trying to keep your daughter feeling secure through all these changes."

Mary felt that she had passed some test (or maybe Richard had passed), when he unburdened himself to her (and he really had). He had been going through hell. The divorce had been messy and far too much had been spent on attorneys with Caroline's number one goal apparently to make him so miserable that he would just sign an agreed order giving her more than her fair share just to get it over with.

"I know that no-fault divorce is supposed to be a good thing," he told Mary, "but it seems unfair that she should get half of all we own, including my military retirement, when she was the one who was partying, not keeping a job down and had an affair and everything. Because her son is not mine, the judge doesn't care that he has for all practical purposes been adopted by her sister Louisa. And it took two and a half years to get to the place where everything was divided equally. Do you know she had the gall to request child support even though I am the primary residential custodian? She fought to have Lacey almost half-time on paper even though in practice she spent hardly any of the time with her. At least the judge cared about that. I kept detailed records of all of our text exchanges where Caroline begged off at the last minute from having Lacey when we were under the temporary time-sharing order; I think even Caroline's counsel was surprised at that one."

When Mary finally reminded him of the time, 7pm, (their after dinner coffee in the cafe had long since gone cold, he had told her at the outset that he had to be back at his sister's at 7:30 pm to pick up Lacey), he had reddened a little. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to spend so much time talking about Caroline. You must want to run to the hills right now. I am still a mess about it all. I don't know that I am really ready to date considering what I just did during our date."

"It is okay," Mary did her best to reassure him. "I have a feeling you often make light of everything because you are the sort of person who other people expect to be funny and lighthearted, but you went through, are still going through, something hard."

"Thanks for understanding," he told her, "you are exactly right about that. How did you have me pegged so easily? Has Darcy or Bingley been telling secrets about me?" He tried to lighten the mood, it is what he always did.

When Richard walked Mary to her garage apartment door (and he did insist on walking her up all the exterior stairs), he paused awkwardly on the wooden landing. Mary tried to decide whether to whip out her keys immediately or to pause and turn. She chose to pause and turn. "Thank you for dinner, Richard, I had a lovely time."

He awkwardly picked up one foot and twisted it. "You don't really have to say it; I am sure that this is not the date you wanted."

"What I wanted," Mary confessed, "was to get to know the real you, not the you that you feel like you need to show everyone and I think I saw him."

His eyes softened and Mary felt she was getting another glimpse at the vulnerable man who was always used to acting tough, but who had been very hurt. She leaned in and gave him a hug. He hugged her back and both of them found the platonic gesture reassuring. Richard thought to himself, At least I didn't screw up so bad that she went into her apartment with just a goodbye. Mary thought, He is a really good hugger; I am glad he trusted me enough to share, even though he really doesn't know me at all yet.

After a long moment they broke their hug. "Mary, will you let me take you out again and see if I can do better? Caroline is supposed to have Lacey next weekend, but I never know until the last minute whether that will actually happen. So if you make other plans it is okay, but I'll text you and see if we can get together if she actually follows through."

"Richard, our date may not have been the romantic one my mother is going to want to hear about the second I get in my apartment (I am pretty sure she heard your car pull up), but I do feel like it was well worth it to get to know a bit about all that is going on in your life. I wouldn't change it even if I could."

Mary smiled at him and Richard smiled back. "Well, next time I want to learn all about you and what it is really like being a piano teacher."

"Deal," Mary said, extending her hand and finding that when Richard shook her hand that his handshake was both warm and reassuring.

And keep seeing each other they did. They found time to spend together without disrupting Lacey's time with her father: breakfasts together after Richard dropped Lacey off at school (he was working remotely as a consultant and could set his own hours); casual chats on Mary's sofa when one of her lessons canceled and she had an hour free; text messages exchanged while Lacey was watching Curious George; and an occasional actual date.

For their six month anniversary (both Mary and Richard were secretly keeping track, though neither of them knew the other was doing likewise), Richard surprised Mary by arriving to pick her up after her last lesson of the day on a Saturday to take her to a late lunch picnic in the park. Mrs. Bennet had a horrible time keeping the secret but she was the only one who could keep up with Mary's shifting and complicated schedule.

"How do you have time to meet me now?" Mary wondered aloud. "Don't you have Lacey right now or did Caroline ask to have her today, to make up for missing last week?"

"My sister is helping me out today. It is our six month anniversary, Mary. I really wanted to celebrate with you today. It is important to mark milestones," Richard explained.

Mary was a bit surprised to smell McDonalds in his car and glancing over her shoulder saw a take out bag. She was a bit disappointed that this was the food for their picnic, but determined that she would not let it show. It was the thought that mattered after all and she was thrilled to be having a surprise date.

When they arrived at the park Richard's sister was there, too. She had set up a wooden table right next to the playground with much better takeout, from the cafe at which they had their first day. There was even a vase with a bouquet of roses.

"What a lovely surprise!" Mary exclaimed. She'd never had anyone go to so much trouble for her before and was tearing up a bit (she had doubted she was worth much as her past boyfriends seemed to be all about what she could give them, rather than wanting to do things for her), but she was a bit perplexed when Richard started laying out the happy meal beside his own container.

"There is more," he told her. When everything was apparently laid out to his satisfaction, he stood up and motioned for Mary to join him next to the playground. She was a bit dumbfounded until he called, "Lacey!"

Mary watched as an adorable little girl waved from the top of the slide, slid down and ran toward them. Mary had of course seen pictures of Lacey, but those pictures did not do justice to the little red-head in action and the way her curls bounced as she ran. Mary felt a bit of a lump in her throat as Lacey sidled up to Richard, leaning her head again his side, suddenly shy. "Is that her?"

"Yes, Lacey, that is Mary. She is my girlfriend and I know she wants to be your friend."

Lacey gave Mary a shy smile. Mary felt her eyes well up with tears. She remembered Richard's words about not wanting to introduce his daughter to anyone who wasn't going to be a part of his life. She now knew that Richard was serious about their relationship.

It was about four months later when Caroline ditched Lacey for Mother's Day. After exchanging text messages with Mary, Richard had texted his cousin Fitz about the whole fiasco. Fitz had talked Richard into making last minute plans to come to Aunt Catherine's with his daughter and inviting his girlfriend, touting the trip as being a good distraction for Lacey as she would get to spend time with her cousins.

When Richard invited Mary, he had the obligatory, "We will have separate bedrooms at my aunt's talk" as they were neither at that stage of their relationship (he had told her he was old fashioned and traditional about such things), he did not want to confuse Lacey, and his aunt was most proper.

Of course Mary wanted to go but she was worried that her mother and aunt would be upset that she wouldn't be there for Mother's Day and cooking for the family and it was too late for her mother and aunt to horn in on her sisters' plans.

"Nonsense!" said Aunt Philips, when Mary explained her concern to her aunt and her mother. "You are trying out for the role of Bonus Mother to Lacey and of course you need to be there."

"Don't worry about me, Mary," Mrs. Bennet declared. "I may have gotten to keep you the longest, but that doesn't mean that I don't want you to have every chance of landing Mr. Right."

"But what about dinner?" Mary asked, "I can't see either Dad or Uncle cooking anything edible."

"It has already been arranged," Mrs. Bennet declared, "Richard talked to your father and told him he was going to be asking you to come. Your father is ordering pizza, chicken wings and one of those lava cakes. It won't be anything to your cooking, but they are excited to have grease with an order of fat and sugar."

"And your uncle is buying all the fixings for margaritas for us and bourbon for themselves. You will be missing out on quite a party."

Mary was then able to pack with a light heart, even though she had a bit of trepidation about staying two days at the house of a woman she had never met before.


	5. If Your Child Has Died

_I'm still wanting title suggestions. No one has given me one and the current title was most definitely a working title that I slapped on just because I needed a title. Seriously, I will take any suggestions at this point. I think perhaps Mother's Day should be in the title but am perfectly willing to be proven wrong_. _As a reward, if I choose your title suggestion I will write you an approximately 500-1000 word one shot of any Pride and Prejudice scene you wish with whatever twist you want, within a T rating.  
_

**Chapter 5: If Your Child Has Died . . . It Will Get Better  
**

Mary had been prepared not to like Lady Catherine after all of Richard's warnings. However, she couldn't help but feel compassion for a woman whose daughter had died the previous year, deciding to selflessly host a Mother's Day weekend celebration for her closest relatives.

When they arrived with Lacey, Lady Catherine had been mostly gracious, though she did say a little snidely to Richard, "So you decided to date one of the other Miss Bennets?" But Mary had not even had time to decide what Lady Catherine meant by that before Lady Catherine had dismissed them to see their rooms (they were escorted up the grand staircase by a maid, while handsome burly men brought up their luggage).

Mary had thought Saturday would be mostly a day of spending time with Lady Catherine and the other guests. She thought she would get to see her niece and nephews, and play with them and Lacey. She was also looking forward to catching up with Lizzy and Fitzwilliam, meeting Georgiana and her family, and seeing how Richard interacted with his other family members.

Mary had already met Richard's parents, his married siblings and their children. It had been difficult at first as they did not seem all that impressed with her music degree and that she gave piano lessons for a living. They were also very protective of Richard and Lacey.

She remembered Richard's older sister, Megan, saying quietly to him (apparently not realizing Mary would be able to hear her), "She is nothing like Caroline."

Mary wasn't sure at first if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Caroline always looked so beautiful in all of the pictures she was in with Lacey: fashionable, tall, slim, tan, with even white teeth, hair that had to come from a very expensive bottle and a chest Mary suspected was probably the product of cosmetic surgery. Mary herself always felt vaguely dowdy and frumpy. She did not wear makeup often and bought most of her clothes on the sales rack for last season in a discount store and then began wearing them the following year when the weather was right. Mary doubted Caroline's fashions were ever out-of-date.

It had only taken a few minutes to find out that Richard's family saw it as a good thing, when Megan told her, "I never liked Caroline, but Richard wouldn't let any of us tell him anything. I really think she was using him."

After Mary was finished seeing her room in Rosings (which was far grander and bigger than her over-the-garage apartment and she took a good deal of time becoming familiar with it and reminding herself that though Lady Catherine had a grand house, she was a person like any other), she walked past several doors back to Richard's room and stood awkwardly outside the door waiting for him. Richard had told her to meet him there as he was first going to show Lacey to the nursery where all the other children and a nanny likely were.

Mary wondered if Caroline had ever stayed at Lady Catherine's home when Richard and Caroline were married. She wondered which room they would have stayed in and whether it was the same room that Richard was housed in now.

Mary felt vaguely sick in thinking that perhaps Richard and Caroline had made love in that room, that Richard might even now be comparing her to Caroline. Though she knew objectively that Richard did not want anything to do with Caroline but to have smooth exchanges with Lacey and for Caroline to be a good mother, Mary could not help but wonder whether he had not pursued a more intimate relationship between them because she was not nearly as physically appealing as Caroline.

When Mary was younger, she might have fretted about these thoughts and never asked, but with the maturity of age, she forced herself to knock and once Richard emerged she asked, "Did you visit Rosings with Caroline before?"

He answered her calmly, "No, never. She could not be bothered when I wanted to use my leave to go see Anne. You see, Anne was still weak from the chemo. Caroline declared she would be bored stuck in the country with nothing to do and that if I was having a vacation she should have one, too. I ended up traveling here with Lacey who was a baby at the time. Anne wanted to meet her." His face took on a slight smile as he recalled the memory.

"It was the first time it was just me taking care of Lacey. Aunt Catherine hired a nanny for that week but I really didn't let her do much of anything but warm the bottles and change a couple of diapers. I fed Lacey her bottles, rocked her to sleep, did it all. It gave me the confidence later to know I could parent her by myself. Although Anne tired easily, she really enjoyed holding Lacey. One time Lacey even fell asleep in her arms and Anne looked so content holding her. She would have made an excellent mother."

When Richard and Mary walked down the grand staircase, Mary expected to see all the other guests. Instead, it was just the women in Lady Catherine's grand living room: Lady Catherine, Lizzy and a pretty woman who looked a little younger than Mary and had a similar cast to her features as Lizzy's husband and thus must be Georgiana. Mary had hardly been introduced to Georgiana when Lady Catherine said, "Ladies, now that Miss Bennet is here, we must hurry and get ready to go."

"What is this all about?" Mary whispered to Elizabeth, a bit embarrassed that she did not know what was being talked about.

"Did you not get the emailed itinerary Lady Catherine sent us?" Elizabeth asked.

Mary fumbled through her phone but saw nothing new in her inbox.

"Let me see your phone." Mary handed it over and let her sister search, "Oh, she must not be on your contact list and I see that you don't have a junk mail folder on your phone."

Elizabeth returned her phone, pulled out her own phone and moments later told her, "I've forwarded it to you, so you should get it as it is now from me. I take it, then, that you don't know anything about our ladies spa time, the ball she is hosting tonight or that we are all expected at the Hunsford Church tomorrow."

"Spa? Ball?" Mary was naturally flummoxed and felt the same way as when she was in junior high and forgot her homework at home or to study for an important test. "What will I wear to a ball? I have a dress for church but . . . ." She felt her face redden. She had been hoping to come off at least credibly when meeting Richard's aunt and now she felt horribly embarrassed, though she had done nothing wrong and certainly would have had neither the time nor the money to shop for a ball gown before they left. The trip had been so last minute.

"Maybe I should just stay with the children and supervise them during the ball."

Elizabeth shook her head in a "no" and Mary admired how pretty her sister's hair was as her curls shook. Each little curl was a separate, shiny chocolate spiral. She felt a bit of envy that her own hair was an indistinct color and straight and in feeling that envy almost missed her sister's words.

"Oh no little sister, I can't imagine that Lady Catherine will let you out of the ball that easily. She says she's been planning it for months, and as for the children, she hired nannies to watch them for the weekend. And before you ask, they are all highly qualified. They are all teachers: one retired after thirty years at a very expensive prep school back east, one taught for years at an American school overseas and is fluent in several languages, one specialized in preschool education and won several awards. And as if that were not enough, they have assistants, too. I think the ratio of adults to children is a perfect one-to-one. Don't worry, I am sure Lady Catherine will have some idea of how to find you a gown and she even has a seamstress on staff."

When Elizabeth raised the matter with Lady Catherine, Lady Catherine knew just what she had to do, even though she would have rather been beaten up and left to beg on the streets in some Dickensian novel.

Before Mary hardly had time to know what had happened, she was flanked by the other ladies being escorted to Anne's former rooms. Lady Catherine paused a moment before the highly polished burl wood double doors before pulling them open. The last thing she wanted to do was enter that room. She had kept herself away since Anne had died. She did not to be one of those mothers that went to her dead child's room and had a daily hysterical cry. She would not be weak.

For not the first time, Lady Catherine hated the English language for having no word that reflected who she was now, a mother without a child. Why were there words like widower and widow, when there was no word for what she was now?

But Lady Catherine resolutely walked into the room. She had to face it sooner or later and maybe it would be easier for her to keep her emotions in check with the present audience. She told herself over and over, "I will not cry. I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I married a Brit and became one myself. They are known for keeping a stiff upper lip."

Only Lady Catherine's eyes betrayed her emotions; the rest of her body was stiffly erect, her face bland. However inside she felt all the pain of knowing that while Anne's room looked the same, Anne was never coming home.

Lady Catherine resolutely marched herself past her daughter's pink fluffy bed with lace accents to her large walk-in closet, trying not to remember the last time she saw her daughter there (Anne had died in that very bed fourteen months earlier).

She turned to Mary and told her, "There ought to be something suitable in here; you are a similar size to Anne after all. Anne attended every ball I hosted, though sometimes she was not well enough to dance."

Mary felt overwhelmed by the racks of clothes and did not know where to begin looking, but fortunately Georgiana did. "Come over her, Mary, there are several ball gowns here."

Georgiana and Elizabeth looked at the choices and selected three for Mary to try. Mary felt a little like one of the brides on that show where they visit a wedding dress store and all the friends and relatives critique the bride's choices. Mary knew she would be one of the brides that had not an idea of what style would suit her best. She retreated to a far corner of the closet to change, with Elizabeth helping her.

The closet had a three way mirror by where Georgiana and Lady Catherine were waiting, so Mary was able to get a good view of herself. The rose colored gown did not suit her at all. She felt too lumpy and bumpy in what (if she recalled correctly) was called a mermaid style. The deep emerald gown was certainly pretty and flattering to her figure, but she felt both overwhelmed by the color and all of the encrusted embellishments and how low the neckline plunged. Additionally the dress felt quite heavy and Mary felt she would not be able to dance well in it.

The final gown was a light butter yellow. It was a true ballgown shape, though with a less full skirt. It both hugged her figure in all the right places and was more generous through her bottom and hips, areas which Mary felt self-conscious about. It was more modest in the neckline, showing just a hint of cleavage. It was a bit too long, but otherwise looked good to her. When Mary turned from the mirror, she saw from the faces of the other ladies that this gown was the right choice.

Georgiana asked, "Are you ready to say yes to the dress?"

Mary nodded. She felt like a princess and it was a wonderful feeling after feeling like the ugly duckling most of her life. She swallowed hard, remembering how she had not gone to her high school prom, though she dearly wanted to attend. She had no date and was not willing to attend and be the girl everyone else pitied.

She remembered how hard it had been when she found out Lydia was attending that year. Though Lydia was only a freshman, she was asked by a senior, a football player that ran with the right crowd. Max Peterson was rich and handsome and drove to school in a cherry red convertible. Mary knew Max with his perfect wavy hair and disdain for ordinary high schoolers, would have never considered asking her.

She had tried to talk her parents out of letting Lydia go. She tried her mother first, telling her, "Lydia only got asked because everyone knows she is easy. There is only one thing that guy wants from her."

"Mary! How can you talk about your own sister that way?" Her mother asked her. And then without waiting for an answer added, "Lydia and Max are going to that after prom lock-in that the school hosts. I've already written a check to school to pay for it."

Lydia stuck out her tongue at Mary from behind their mother, daring Mary to question this.

Mary was dubious that Lydia had any intention of attending the lock-in. It was well known that the lock-in was only something that the nerds attended along with the highly religious set. While Mary had thought it sounded like fun, she doubted it would appeal to her sister and Max. But she knew she would not get anywhere with her mother who was already urging Lydia to have as much fun as possible.

She tried her dad next. He also seemed dubious about the lock-in but told her, "Your mother is determined that Lydia be allowed to go. I agree that she is too young to have sex but if she does, well it is not as if she hasn't done that before. At least she is on birth control so I doubt anything too bad will come of it."

"What about diseases, Dad? The pill won't stop her from getting those and I doubt she would make him wear a condom. Can't you even check if the check has cleared?"

He looked Mary right in the eye and asked, "What difference would that make? Whether she paid it and plans to skip out or she didn't pay it, your mother believes her. Try to look at it from my perspective. Whenever I've tried to clamp down on Lydia your mom sabotages it and it causes problems between your mom and me. And when she goes so far beyond the line that her mother finally sees it is a problem and we both enforce things, Lydia makes life hell for the rest of us until your mother finally caves again. Let Lydia have her fun. I doubt she will have a very fulfilling life as an adult."

The night of prom promised to be truly awful, so Mary arranged that she would go over to her aunt's home right after school got out on Friday and stay the whole weekend as she had no intention of having a front row seat to all the preparations and hear Lydia crow about her good fortune for hours on end with her equally enthusiastic mother praising Lydia's liveliness as the cause of her good fortune.

She knew even Kitty was miserable as Kitty had confided, "Why does Lydia get to go with Max? I know we've never talked but he is in my advanced p.e. class and I am older so I deserve to go more. I know you did not expect to go, but shouldn't he have asked me before her?"

Mary pulled herself back from her remembrances of the past. She reminded herself that this was her time. Richard was worth ten Max Petersons and she would have a date to this ball.

"Yes, it is a wonderful choice," Lady Catherine enthused. She was doing her best to be positive even though everything in her was screaming that it was not right that someone else was wearing Anne's dress. Her voice felt thick and awkward to her despite her best efforts to keep her voice light. She felt as if she might cry at any moment, so she abruptly announced, "Stay right here, I will send Betty to you. She can alter it and find you some suitable shoes."

Then Lady Catherine, with all the dignity she could muster, fled the walk-in closet and the room with a slow and deliberate walk. She caught the first maid she spotted, told her to get Betty and send her to Anne's closet and then ran (heedless of any who might see her) to her own rooms.

She had a good cry on her bed. It was not that she begrudged letting Richard's girlfriend have one of Anne's dresses. There were so many of them and it wasn't as if they were doing anyone any good just hanging there and Lady Catherine did not like it when things were not useful. But there were memories tied up with every item of clothing hanging in that closet and it hurt to let even one of them go.

This particular ballgown had been worn several years ago. Anne had been having a good patch and was even able to dance a few dances in it. Lady Catherine remembered seeing Anne dance with a most eligible man. She remembered seeing how happy Anne looked as they danced and conversed. Perhaps they were talking of something of no consequence as it was not as if Lady Catherine could hear them from across the room, but to see Anne happy and animated, able to do what everyone else in the room took for granted, it had made Lady Catherine feel so happy.

To Lady Catherine, life was about losing the people that were most dear to her and carrying on with grace and dignity. She never wanted anyone to see how she really felt. She felt if she let anyone in, let them see what she was really feeling, that she would completely fall apart and she could not have that. This weekend she had surrounded herself with people and endless activities in an attempt to keep so busy that she would not have much time to feel the loss of Anne and the remembrance that she was a mother no more.


	6. Support The Women In Your Life

**Chapter 6: Support The Women In Your Life Who Have Offered You A Mother's Love  
**

Georgiana tried her best to relax during her time at the spa with the other ladies. Although a few of the early treatments took place in the same room with Elizabeth and Mary, soon Georgiana found herself alone in a room listening to gentle nature sounds as a massage therapist kneaded her back.

Georgiana tried to seem as if she was enjoying the pampering while around Elizabeth and Mary as she saw no reason to spoil their day, but everything reminded her of her mother as Mother's Day drew near and added to that underlying sorrow was an awareness and worry about how Aunt Catherine was coping. Of course Georgiana was sad when her cousin Anne died but as Anne was neither her mother or child there was no special association between her passing and Mother's Day, but for Aunt Catherine . . . .

Others might think Aunt Catherine was fine. Perhaps both Elizabeth and Mary saw nothing amiss, but she knew Aunt Catherine quite a bit better than they did. Aunt Catherine might have fooled them with her whole stiff upper lip routine, but Georgiana had seen how close she was to breaking down when she left Anne's room. And then when they received word that Aunt Catherine wouldn't be joining them for their spa outing . . . Well at that point she became that much more worried.

Georgiana had considered remaining behind as well and seeing if she could be of use to her aunt. She would have done that if she thought her aunt would have wanted that, but she expected that Aunt Catherine would prefer that she ignore what she had noticed, thus she had gone on the outing Aunt Catherine arranged.

When Georgiana was receiving her massage, the petite Asian woman (Georgian thought she might be Thai, but would not dream of asking as did not want to give offense) working on her said, "Oh my, what has got you so stressed out?" Then she used a lot of fancy terms, the gist of which seemed to be that many of her muscles were holding tension.

Georgiana ended up confiding in the woman as some women confided in their hairdressers. She told her, "I am worried about my aunt. Her daughter died a little more than a year ago and I am afraid she is having a tough time as she had to go into her daughter's bedroom today. With Mother's Day tomorrow, I do not know how she will cope. It is a difficult day for me, too."

"Have you also lost a child?" The massage therapist inquired sympathetically.

"No, my mother. My aunt has lost most everyone who is important to her, her husband, her parents, my mother, her son and last year her only remaining child. I find it a hard day, even when I have so much to be thankful for: a husband that loves me dearly and two wonderful boys."

"Ah, that must be the source of all of this," the massage therapist gestured broadly, "your own sadness and your worry for your aunt." Georgiana felt the difference as the woman worked her back muscles harder. It hurt but the tension also seemed to be easing. "But she does have you."

"Yes," Georgiana agreed, even as she thought about the fact that she had never had the easiest relationship with her aunt. Aunt Catherine disapproved of Georgiana's involvement in high school with George Wickham (though of course she had been right about that one), her college choice, her decision not to pursue becoming a concert pianist and to become a chemist instead, her choice of a husband, her decision to put off children until she was thirty, and her decision to keep working in the lab after the children arrived. But Georgiana realized in thinking back on all of these experiences, that she had on her own accord informed Aunt Catherine about every one of them, even if Georgiana almost never took her advice (which was usually completely unsolicited).

As she felt the stiffness in her muscles easing, Georgiana contemplated why that was. It would have been easier, sometimes, for Aunt Catherine to know nothing rather than to have to deal with her reactions. Of course it must have all started after her own mother died. Though Fitzwilliam and Richard had been her guardians (Aunt Catherine had vigorously fought to serve in that role while Richard's parents had deferred to her father's designation in his will), they did not provide any kind of model for who she was to be as a woman. Georgiana had always wished to be like her Aunt Fitzwilliam, calm, caring, capable, but it was Aunt Catherine who belonged to her by blood and was regularly calling Georgiana and checking on all the minutia that was her life. And yet Georgiana knew that it was herself who was often slamming the door on that relationship; trying to keep Aunt Catherine out just a bit.

A perfect example was regarding her wedding: Aunt Catherine had offered to take her dress shopping or to have a gown custom made for her, but Georgiana had rebuffed such efforts and gone shopping at a used prom and wedding gown store. Aunt Catherine had offered to host the rehearsal dinner, but Georgiana had made Fitzwilliam and Richard do it and the results had been laughable as they had run far short of food and finally Fitzwilliam had sent Richard out to buy hot and ready pizza from the gas station; while everything had gone wrong, it had been the funniest thing ever to see Aunt Catherine insist on eating her slice of pizza with a knife and fork as apparently faux nobility (Georgiana did not think someone was nobility just from marrying into it) could not pick up a slice like everyone else. Aunt Catherine had offered to help her get ready on her wedding day, but Georgiana had asked her Aunt Fitzwilliam to help instead and she had done a marvelous job, but Georgiana in reflecting on it now, realized that Aunt Fitzwilliam had not offered to do it, had only agreed after Georgiana requested it.

Aunt Catherine was nothing like Georgiana's mother-in-law Sylvia. Just a weeks earlier, Georgiana had called Steve at work to ask him to deliver Josh's lunch to preschool as it was nowhere to be found in his backpack as she went to get it out for the teacher to refrigerate. Georgiana herself could not get it as she was on her way to the airport to leave for a weekend conference. Steve had agreed, but noted he would have to bring Sylvia with him to the preschool as she was getting a colonoscopy that day and he was her ride.

Georgiana had not thought anything about it at the time; she had figured that Sylvia would stay in the car while Steve dropped the lunch off. But when Steve called her that night it turned out that other than delivering the lunch it had been an unmitigated disaster. Sylvia had insisted on going with him and they should have just left when the woman at the front desk accepted the lunch. But when she had spotted Sylvia she told them, "Josh's class is on the playground now if you want to bring his Grandmother to visit him."

Steve hadn't wanted to take his mom to see Josh, but Sylvia had been most insistent, telling them both, "I've wanted to see where they play for a while and to know who all of his little friends are."

At first all had been well. Josh had run up to them and Sylvia had believed it was all for her. But then Sylvia had noticed that Josh's class had a lot of kids of different colors and made some very loud comments about wondering whether all of them knew English. Steve tried to get her to leave then, but she wasn't listening to him and instead called Josh over and said (very loudly again), "Why don't you play with him," she was pointing to a little blonde boy, "instead of those darkies?"

Steve noticed that Josh's teacher had most definitely heard that last comment and felt he had to prove now that he was not racist, so he said loudly in response, "Josh can have any friend he wants and Dante and Malcolm have been good friends to him."

But his mother was not cowed and responded, "What don't you pay to send Josh to a better school where he will make the right sort of friends?"

Josh had heard this and turned back to his grandmother and yelled, "I like my school! I like my friends!" Then Josh told his grandmother, "I don't wanna go to a different school!" He then looked at his dad and implored, "You won't make me, Dad, will ya?"

Afterwards, Steve had a long talk with his mother in the car with her insisting all the while that she had not done anything wrong and becoming angry at him. While his mother was having her colonoscopy, and Steve was sitting in the waiting room, he wasn't thinking about his mother's procedure. Instead his head was full of remembrances of all the ways his mother had embarrassed and failed him over the years. Between his dark thoughts he was busy using outlook on his phone to email Josh's teacher to apologize and wondering whether he should say something to the parents of Josh's classmates. He dreaded the imagined conversations those preschoolers might soon be having with their parents, but if they had forgotten about it, maybe it would be worse if he brought the matter up.

Georgiana had tried to be supportive of Steve when he told her about all the trauma of his day. For not the first time, she wished Sylvia was not part of their lives, but she also knew that it was Steve's compassion and caring nature which had attracted her to him in the first place and part and parcel of that is that he was trying to do the right thing in regards to his mom, whether it was easy or not.

Georgiana was feeling guilty also, for the role she had played and told him so: "I feel so awful that I forgot Josh's lunch at home. If I had not done that, none of this would have happened."

He told her reasonably enough, "It is not your fault. Anyone else's mom would have been reasonable."

Georgiana pictured her own mom and imagined what she would have been like visiting Josh at his school. Perhaps she would have embarrassed him in front of his friends by calling him some ridiculous nickname like she had Georgiana (she used to call her Little George, Georgie-Porgie and Jelly Bean). She might have pinched his cheek or even given him a kiss. She could be plenty embarrassing and Georgiana remembered dreading having her visit school, but she had never worried about her mother saying something inappropriate to the other kids.

As the massage therapist continued her work, now moving on to Georgiana's limbs, it occurred to Georgiana that unlike Sylvia, who demanded to claim the title of mother from her, Aunt Catherine was the closest person in her life to a mother. Aunt Catherine had always been there, annoying, stubborn, insisting she was right, but she had been there. Georgiana wondered that she had not seen it before.

Later that day, when they had returned to Rosings, refreshed and relaxed, Georgiana excused herself after only perhaps half an hour in the yard with everyone else. She had been having fun spending time with her children, nieces and nephews and getting to know Mary and seeing a bit about how she was with Richard. Georgiana planned to seek out Aunt Catherine, but Richard followed her out.

"What do you think of Mary?" He asked her.

Georgiana had the sense that he really wanted her approval, much like she had wanted his approval for Steve, when she had decided that he was the one for her. It felt odd, though, to be in the position of advising her older cousin.

Georgiana answered honestly, "I barely know her, but I like what I see. She seems very comfortable with the children and her sister's children obviously adore her, and Lacey does, too. I like how she offered to include my boys, too, and her modesty when trying on dresses was refreshing. She seems a bit shy, but thoughtful. I don't think she realizes just how pretty she is."

Georgiana decided to cut to the chase and ask what she most wanted to know. "Just how serious are you about her, Richard? Megan hinted that she thinks wedding bells are in your future, but I have to say I was a little concerned when I heard you were dating Elizabeth's sister. She isn't Elizabeth."

"I am very serious and I know she isn't Elizabeth. I would not want her to be. Mary is herself and that is pretty special. Whatever attraction I had for Elizabeth, well I did my best to set it aside when she and Fitz started dating."

"And did your best to distract yourself with Caroline, too," Georgiana added.

Richard looked sheepish. "I should have known Caroline was just using me to get back at Fitz and to try to make him jealous, but all her attention was very flattering. I know now that I didn't really love her, so much as I wanted to love her. But you know how seriously I take marriage. I really wanted it to work and despite all the hell she put me through, I can't regret Lacey."

Richard blushed a bit, like a teenager, rather than acting like a confident and mature man. "Can you keep a secret?"

Georgiana nodded. With sudden clarity and certainty she stated, "You love her. I bet you even bought a ring, didn't you? Did you bring it with you?"

He nodded, wondering how Georgiana knew.

"Are you sure, Richard? I know it has only been a few months. I don't want to see you hurt again."

"I'm sure, Georgiana; I can't imagine my life without Mary in it." As he said the words, he was absolutely confident that what he was saying was absolutely true. "I love her as much as Lacey, but in a completely different way. I can't imagine a future without her as my wife." Richard felt himself getting choked up, to finally be telling someone else what was on his heart.

Although Georgiana was far too old for it, she couldn't help the squeal that burst forth from her, as if she was still some giddy teenager. But truth of it was she still felt giddy to be with Steve, who loved her fiercely, possessively and still looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman ever, who still told her how amazed he was that she had said yes to him, all those years ago. The thought that her cousin could now know such joy was just exhilarating. The thought that he could have lived twice as long as she had before she married, without finding real love, well it was just awful, but now things could be made right.

"How are you going to ask her?" Georgiana wanted all the details.

"I . . . I am not sure. Would it be too corny to ask her at the ball, or maybe afterwards? Really, I don't know what I am doing. I didn't expect for us to be here and yet now I am wondering if it might be fate or destiny or some part of the Big Man's plan. Dancing at a ball has got to be romantic."

"Of course it is, Richard. You've danced at enough of Aunt Catherine's balls that you ought to know that."

"I don't know about that," he said a bit doubtfully. "I've never danced with anyone I've loved before at a ball. It always seemed so silly before, like everyone was playing dress up, staring in some Disney movie. I'm fifty; that is too old for fairy tales and happily ever afters."

"No, it is not, Richard, but if you are going to ask her, you need to have a plan, to woo her, so that she has very special memories of the night you proposed. You can't just pop the question without first making her feel like the most special woman on Earth."

"I don't know that I am any good at grand romantic gestures," he told her. He could feel his palms sweating. He just wanted to ask Mary, have her say yes, and not keep worrying about it.

"Do you want me to help?" Georgiana asked. "We could get Elizabeth to help, too, I am sure."

"I . . . I know I should do it all myself, but maybe you can both give me a few suggestions?"

"I think I can safely speak for Elizabeth and say that we would both be delighted."

In the discussion that followed (and of course Elizabeth was happy to be of use), it is perhaps not surprising that Georgiana forgot all about her plans to go see Aunt Catherine. It was only as Georgiana was dressing for the ball that she realized she had never gone to see her. Georgiana hoped that Aunt Catherine would at least be feeling well enough to attend her own ball.

* * *

_Now is your chance to let me know, what do you think Georgiana and Elizabeth would have suggested for Richard to do to set the perfect stage for his proposal? And what might he come up with on his own.  
_


	7. Crafting Can Channel Your Feelings

_So we still haven't gotten to the ball with this chapter. Sorry, Lacey wanted her turn. I keep thinking this story is a chapter or two from being complete and then the next chapter doesn't get us very far in the timeline._

**Chapter 7: Crafting Can Channel Your Feelings Into Productive Action  
**

After being fitted up for alterations in the ball gown after the spa outing (naturally the seamstress could not alter the gown until Mary selected her shoes and none of the shoes from the first store that another servant had brought back were the right size as the servant had somehow thought that Mary was a size six instead of a size nine, so the seamstress had told her that they should all go ahead and go to the spa as more shoes needed to be fetched and hemming the gown would not take too long), Mary first tried to find Richard and then when he did not seem to be about, went to the nursery to see the children.

However, Mary was not really needed in the nursery as the many temporary nannies and assistants had organized the children's activities. A couple of the older children, Elizabeth's oldest boys, were just heading outside to the gardens when Mary arrived. Mary opted to stay in the nursery, hoping that Richard might find her more easily there when he turned up. Georgiana's two boys were ignoring an assortment of what appeared to be brand new toys, to play with the longest wooden train track Mary had ever seen, which was being made ever longer by two adults, while Elizabeth's daughter played with Barbies in an enormous Barbie house as assisted by another lady.

While there was a long table set up with Mother's Day crafts on it, Lacey was the only child there. There was another lady who was dutifully manning that table.

Mary saw that Lacey was busy making an oversized card out of heavy yellow cardstock, stickers, fake gems, glue and glitter. She sidled up to her and asked, "Do you need any help, Lacey?"

Lacey shook her head, "I want to do it myself, to show Mommy how much I love her and miss her." She then directed, "Go sit over there. It is a surprise. I will show you when I am done."

Mary dutifully took the seat Lacey pointed to across from her. Lacey kept diligently working, adding more and more embellishments. She told Mary, "Mommy likes sparkling things."

Once the front was fully decorated, Lacey picked up a purple crayon and began writing her message on the front. Mary thought it would have made more sense to write the message before decorating the card, but of course said nothing. Then Lacey set that portion of the card aside and picked up a perfectly cropped large white square which would later be glued inside (Mary could tell because a pre-made example was on display). Because of the supplies between them, Mary could not quite see what Mary was writing, but she was impressed that as a child of six, Lacey was confidently writing something.

Mary thought perhaps that it was mere scribbles as she had seen other children do before they could truly write, but was disabused of that notion when Lacey began asking how to spell certain words. Mary would spell the word aloud as she wrote it on another piece of paper in large block letters and hold it up until Lacey said, "done."

Lacey did not seem to believe Mary when it came to the word "beautiful" (perhaps because of all the vowels), shaking her head in negation, but faithfully seemed to copy down "dear," "day," "Aruba," "swimming," "brother," "Charlie," "Mary," "Catherine," "gown" and "Belle." Lacey diligently wrote and then used a glue stick to glue the sheet onto the card. Then she began to draw pictures on the inside with her crayons. Finally she declared, "I am finished, Mary." She then thrust the card into Mary's hand and asked, "Do you think Mommy will like it?"

Mary read on the front: _Habby Mommy Da bi Lacey_. She took her time in admiring all the artwork, commenting on the flowers Lacey had made with purple gems and the border made of stickers. She then opened the card and read:

_Dear Mommy_

_I hop yoo hab a habby Mommy Da you are so bootifull. I mis yu and luv yu vary mutch. Is aruba fun? __i wanta go swimming at__ the bitch. __when wil I sea brother Charlie? I am havin fun with Daddy and Mary. We go in are car to ant Caterine hows and sea lots of ants and unkles. Im gonna war a gown lick Belle and dans at the ball wit Daddy._

_luv_

_Lacey_

Mary stifled a laugh when she read Lacey's spelling of "beach." She wondered if Caroline was the sort of mother who would find all the misspellings amusing and adorable (as Mary did) or would simply find the card defective.

Over the years Mary had received a few cards from her students, but never one from a child as young as Lacey which contained so much writing. Generally children of her age might have a few stick figures and sign their names. She always thanked the children and asked them to tell her about the drawings as she had made a mistake early on of thinking she could interpret them for herself.

As Lacey's card also contained some stick figures, Mary asked, "Who are these people?"

"That's my family," Lacey explained about the four figures. "There is Daddy," she said, pointing to the largest figure drawn in brown with a roughly triangular-shaped head and a big smile, "and me," pointing to a smaller brown figure right next to the Daddy which had a smaller smile and a few strands of pink hair.

There was some space and then another figure.

"That is Mommy." This figure had the most detail, an oval head, lots of hair drawn in burnt sienna type color, two dot eyes carefully drawn in blue, a red mouth, necklaces ringing the stick neck and what was clearly a black dress drawn over the stick figure body and even black things at the end of each leg that were pointy and clearly meant to be high heels. "She always wants me to make her pretty. She did not like it when I gave her green hair one time." Lacey gave a little grimace as remembering.

"I think it would be fun to have green hair," Mary encouraged.

"No one really wants green hair," Lacey responded, "and she told me it was ugly."

"But it was just a picture," Mary replied. "What is wrong with having green hair in a picture? It is fun to imagine, even if maybe I wouldn't want green hair in real life."

"Daddy always likes how I draw him," Lacey responded. "He always puts my pictures up on the fridge. I don't know where Mommy keeps my pictures."

Mary had a sudden image of Caroline dutifully thanking Lacey each time and then crumpling her pictures up after a visit and throwing them away. She hoped that wasn't what was happening and hoped that would not be the fate of this card when it was finally gifted to Caroline.

"And who is that?" Mary asked about the smallest stick figure which had the fewest details.

"That is Charlie. He is my brother, but I haven't seen him for a long time. Auntie Louisa is his mommy now. Daddy and I visited him at her house."

"It is a lovely card, Lacey. I like how hard you worked on it, all the decorations and the nice message. You wrote a lot."

"I have to write Mommy a lot," Lacey responded. "Mommy is very busy. Daddy sends her my letters sometimes and sometimes I keep her letters until she sees me. Sometimes she sends me presents, but if there is a card she just signs 'Mommy' and 'I love you' and just things like that."

"Well your mommy is very lucky to have a daughter who makes her such wonderful cards. I wish someone would make me cards like that."

"I have an idea," Lacey told her. "Maybe when Daddy comes back he will make you a card for Mother's Day."

"That is a sweet idea," Mary told her, but then inexplicably (at least to herself) added, "But I am not a Mommy." Mary felt a little lump in her throat right then. Her face must have said it all as Lacey got up from her chair, went around the table and gave Mary a hug.

As she hugged her she said, "But you are nice like a Mommy should be. You are nice to me and Daddy." Lacey broke the hug and said, "I am going to play Barbies now." She ran off to the enormous Barbie palace where Elizabeth's daughter was playing by herself.

Mary was left, feeling a bit bereft. She felt for not the first time that Caroline did not deserve all of Lacey's devotion. As Lacey seemed quite occupied now, Mary told her, "I am going to see where your Daddy went."

"Okay, bye Mary."

As Lacey played Barbies with her cousin Jane, she noticed that among the packages of Barbies piled beside the the Barbie house that had not even been opened yet, was a box set containing a groom Ken, a bride Barbie and two girls who were also dressed up. Lacey brought the box to the nice lady who was playing Barbies with them. She asked, "Could you open this one?" and then later when it was opened asked, "Who are the girls?"

The woman consulted the box and told her, "Those are Stacie and Chelsea."

Lacey knew that. She had a Stacie doll at home and had looked at enough Barbies at the store to have seen a Chelsea doll before. There was a set with a Chelsea doll that came with a little playhouse where Chelsea could sleep on the roof.

It was annoying that grown ups were always answering questions wrong.

"No, who are they in the wedding?"

The woman looked at the pieces that came with the dolls. "Well, there are three bouquets, so maybe they are bridesmaids, but I suppose they could also be flower girls. You can play however you want."

Lacey shook her head in frustration. She knew the nice lady had answered her question, but Lacey realized she had not really asked the question that she wanted to ask. "Are they the man or woman's children?"

"Don't be silly, dear, Barbie and Ken don't have children before they get married. I think Stacie and Chelsea are supposed to be Barbie's little sisters."

Lacey stopped asking questions. She knew the rhyme, "First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage."

She thought about her Daddy and Mommy. They were married, so they must have loved each other, and then she had arrived. But she did not remember ever living with both Daddy and Mommy. The rhyme did not say anything about divorce or what was supposed to happen after that. Lacey knew that other children in her kindergarten class did not all live with both a Mommy and a Daddy. Brian had a step-Daddy who he called Phil; Phil came to get Brian from class sometimes. And her brother had a different Daddy from Daddy and lived with Aunt Louisa.

Lacey wanted to know if the little girls in the set were getting a new Mommy or a new Daddy.

A few days earlier, Daddy had asked, "Lacey, can you keep a secret?"

"Yes, Daddy," she told him. "I did not tell you that I already knew what my big present was under the tree before I opened it." She also thought to herself, although she did not say it because it would not be keeping a secret, that when Mommy got her for a weekend that she sometimes had a man (he was always called, "Mommy's special friend") with her.

Mommy had told Lacey, "Now don't tell Daddy about Mommy's special friends or else Daddy might not let you visit me." Mommy had sleepovers with her special friends while Lacey went to sleep by herself in her bedroom, with just her big bear for company. Sometimes if Lacey woke up during the night she might hear sounds from Mommy's bedroom. Usually it was the TV playing a movie, but sometimes she could hear other sounds that the movie did not quite cover up. She did not know what those sounds meant, but felt that it was not fair that Mommy did not stay up to watch a movie and have a sleepover with her.

Although most of Mommy's special friends were nice to her, Lacey did not like that she rarely saw the same one more than two or three times. Lacey had quit trying to remember their names. She did not think Daddy wanted her to know about Mommy's special friends as when he had shown her a picture of Mommy in Aruba, the picture was an odd size and part of Mommy's arm was cut off and there was a bit of tan color by her neck that Lacey was pretty sure was part of someone's arm.

Mommy did not like pictures that did not show all of her, or that were not centered, or were not pretty. Mommy had definite ideas of what good pictures were like. Last year, when Mommy visited for Lacey's preschool graduation and toured the classroom, she had asked Lacey, "What's this?" while pointing to a picture of Mommy and Lacey which was on Lacey's family poster (all the kids had made one). The picture was one that Daddy had taken of Mommy holding Lacey in the hospital when she was born. Lacey loved the picture, as Mommy was holding her tight and smiling happily. She also liked how Mommy's hair was a little wild.

"How could you use this picture of me?" Mommy had asked. "I don't look pretty in it. I don't have any makeup on and I am wearing one of those awful hospital gowns. I've sent your daddy lots of good pictures of me."

"I like you in this picture Mommy, because it is you and me when I was a baby." Lacey tried to explain. She did not want to put up pictures of just Mommy without her in them.

"And why did you use this one?" Mommy asked.

It was a picture from one of Lacey's birthdays. Mommy and Daddy were on either side of Lacey as she prepared to blow out the candles on her cake. She liked it because it had both her Mommy and her Daddy in it with her, but now that Lacey was looking at it more closely, she could see that it was not the best picture of Mommy. "Because it is our family."

"I see what we must do," Mommy told her and started working on her phone while the other children were still showing their parents all the crafts and projects they had made this year. Lacey was especially proud of the two handwriting sheets where she had written every letter of the alphabet in capital and lowercase letters. She also wanted Mommy to see the painting she had made of a house with a happy sun above. But she knew she was not supposed to bother Mommy when she was on her phone.

At the graduation ceremony Lacey and her classmates sang songs to their parents. She especially enjoyed singing the songs about jobs and people. The Daddy in the song was a trash man (though the boy next to her kept singing "trash can"), the sister was an artist, and so on. It was a lot to remember and Lacey was proud that she had gotten all the words right. They each also got an award (Lacey's was for "Best Writer") and a diploma with a shiny sticker that Daddy said was a seal.

The next time that Lacey saw Mommy, Mommy took her shopping for a fancy new dress and sparkly shoes. Mommy then had them both get dressed up to get their pictures taken. Lacey remembered doing a lot of sitting around in her fancy dress (which turned out to be itchy from the lace) and sparkly shoes (which felt tight in the toes), while Mommy did own her hair and makeup.

But later it was Lacey's turn. It was kind of fun when Mommy put some shiny lip gloss on Lacey's lips, dotted her cheeks with blush and painted her nails (pink and sparkly to match her dress). She did not like it much when Mommy used the curling iron on her hair as it scared her because it was hot. But afterwards Mommy had looked at both of them in the mirror and said, "We look so pretty!" Lacey thought Mommy did look very fancy, but more importantly, Mommy looked happy.

They then drove to a photo studio and had their pictures taken. It seemed to Lacey that the man took a long time in posing them, but Mommy said that he was an artist and that was what artists did.

Afterwards Lacey sat on a couch and looked at pictures in magazines, feeling bored, hot and itchy, while Mommy and the man looked at the pictures on the screen. She heard her mother say something about retouching the photos and the man assured her that she really did not need any. The man had smiled a lot at Mommy and afterwards gave her his card after he wrote another number on the back. Lacey remembered wondering whether that man would become another one of Mommy's special friends.

At another visit, Lacey was happy to see a photo of her and Mommy on Mommy's wall, but she was surprised to see that there was some writing on the picture, in a fancy script at the bottom.

"What does that say, Mommy?" She asked.

Mommy told her, "It says the year and 'the Bingley girls.' Look at how beautiful we both are!"

"I'm not a Bingley," Lacey insisted. She knew her name was Lacey Anne Fitzwilliam.

"Well only because the judge wouldn't change it, but when you are older, you can tell the judge that you would rather have Mommy's name, or you can just go by Bingley except when you sign things. Anyway, I wanted it to say something that fit the two of us."

"Why didn't you put Mommy and Lacey?" Lacey asked.

"Lacey, then the focus is on me being a Mommy, rather than just a lovely woman. That would never do."

Lacey didn't say anything. At the end of the visit, Mommy gave Lacey some of the photos, including a big framed one that matched the one Mommy had hanging up with the same writing as on Mommy's photograph. When Lacey got home she had her daddy help her swap out that picture for another one that did not have the writing. Lacey liked that other picture better anyway as Mommy had a real smile and you could see her dimple.

Lacey liked Daddy's secret better than Mommy's secret. Daddy had asked her, "Would you like it if Mary became part of our family and lived in our home?"

Lacey imagined Daddy having sleepovers with Mary. Would Mary and Daddy go alone into Daddy's room at night like Mommy's special friends? "You mean became your special friend?" Immediately after Lacey asked, she realized she had said the wrong thing. Maybe now Daddy would find out about Mommy's special friends and she would not be able to visit Mommy.

Daddy looked confused. "You know that Mary is my girlfriend, right?"

Lacey nodded.

"Well, I would like to marry Mary, but only if it is okay with you."

Lacey bounced up and down, "You mean we could keep Mary for always?"

"Yes, that is what it means, and she would become your step-mother."

Lacey had heard the word step-mother before. Cinderella had an evil step-mother who made Cinderella work hard while the step-sisters and step-mother did not do anything but dress up in pretty clothes, clothes kind of like Mommy liked to wear."

"She wouldn't turn into a mean step-mother, would she?" Lacey asked, feeling a little anxious.

Daddy laughed, "Of course not. Mary will stay the same as always, except she would live in our home and be around every day."

"Yes, Daddy. Marry Mary, marry Mary. A Mary is meant to be married, to you." Lacey twirled around and around in happiness until she started to get silly. She grabbed onto Daddy to keep from falling, but then gave him a hug.

"I am so glad you like the idea, Lacey. It is an important decision and I really hope she says yes."

"Why wouldn't she say 'yes' Daddy?" Lacey could not understand why anyone would not want to marry her daddy. He was so nice and if he got angry and yelled, he always apologized and tried to explain. When Mommy got angry and yelled, later she would pretend she didn't yell, that nothing had happened.

"I think she will say 'yes,' I hope she will say 'yes,' but it is a big decision. I am glad you are on board with the whole idea, but it needs to stay a secret from Mary. I want to surprise her and I am not quite sure when I am going to ask her."

"Can it be soon? I want her to stay with us when it is summer."

"Even if I ask her soon and she says 'yes,' it takes time to plan a wedding. Sometimes people don't get married for a year or two. I don't want to rush things for her, even though I would like it to be soon, too."

Lacey agreed to keep Daddy's secret. She now wondered when Daddy would ask Mary, and if she would be a flower girl or a bridesmaid at their wedding. She hoped whatever dress she ended up wearing was not too itchy. Maybe they would dance at the wedding, like Belle danced with the Beast, like people would be dancing tonight.

Lacey was excited for the ball. She and the other children had been told that they could go to the first part of the ball and Aunt Catherine even had a whole bunch of Disney princess costumes hanging up Jane and her to try on. The boys had super hero costumes if they wanted to dress up. Lacey thought it was strange that the boys would wear those, but she did not remember ever seeing prince costumes for boys.

Lacey wanted to be Belle and Jane wanted to be Cinderella in the blue gown. She knew the adults would not be dressed in costumes but instead in fancy ball gowns. She hoped that Mary would look like a princess and Daddy would look like a prince. If Mary danced with Daddy, that would mean she would marry Daddy. Cinderella danced with the Prince and then he found her with her slipper and married her. Belle danced with the Beast and then the Beast married Belle after he turned back into a prince.


	8. Motherhood Without An Ideal Partner

_Thanks for all the title suggestions. It was helpful to think through the different possibilities you offered but ultimately I came up with an updated title on my own. I hope you like it. The advantage I saw with it was that I could then tie in chapter titles with it. _

_BTW, I know all about the fact that Lady Catherine is a lady based on her father who is an earl in canon but as this is set in the USA, I wanted to title to come from her British husband instead._

**Chapter 8: Motherhood Without An Ideal Partner Is Still A Gift  
**

Georgiana was determined. Nothing would keep her from talking to Aunt Catherine, who still had not reappeared since that morning. Georgiana knew according to her emailed schedule that in an hour she was expected to be down and dressed for dinner. It was her goal to make sure Aunt Catherine was there, too.

Lady Catherine was hiding in her rooms. She knew that was exactly what she was doing, yet she could not seem to help herself. She knew it would be incredibly bad form not to appear to host her own dinner party or to start the ball. Catherine usually delighted in organizing everything to perfection; no minute detail was below her notice. Usually letting herself get caught up in minutiae helped her to not think about what was troubling her and maintain her careful facade of ice queen or less politely, bitch.

She had to call on this technique more and more as Anne grew sicker, when the best doctors money could obtain had nothing more to offer than all the rest. And yet, while Anne was alive, she always had purpose, meaning. She was a mother fighting for her daughter. Many times Catherine had wished she could trade places with her daughter, take on the pain of the treatments, take over on the days when Anne hurt merely from breathing and lying there. Lady Catherine knew while she herself had lived a vibrant life, the opposite could be said about Anne, who at many times only existed. If there was justice in the world, Anne should have been entitled to eventually live a happy and long life for all the suffering she had endured.

In her own life, Catherine had a time of, if not perfect happiness, at least a time of supreme contentment. She had been happy to be chosen by Louis as his bride, to have something recognized in her that she was worthy. She delighted, during their brief courtship, in going to all the society events on his arm. She could not stop smiling after accepting his ring, the stone so large that it spanned more than a single finger, even if she knew there was speculation she had made the huge rock a condition of her acceptance (though nothing could have been further from the truth).

When he married her a few short weeks later, she knew all about the whispers that she had married him for his money and titles, for no one could conceive of how a young woman of twenty five could marry a man older than her father, whose thickening middle and balding head showed every evidence of his age, fifty-three; still, she held her head high. She had no illusions that Louis loved her the way a husband should love a wife, but she was necessary to him and his happiness and he trusted her, had given up much for her, and in return she had gifted him with herself, had mostly silenced the rumors when she bore Jeffrey two years after they married, and then Anne six years later.

It was not that as Catherine Josephine Fitzwilliam she was destitute. Far from it, her family was in real estate and even in times of economic downturn, still stayed in the black. She had been sent to an expensive women's college, Barnard (Columbia's sister school). While there, she had learned from a roommate who made overtures toward her, all about how bodily desires were not necessarily confined to just the opposite gender. Though Catherine herself had not felt similarly, they had still become close and Catherine's understanding about how messy and complicated life could be was greatly expanded.

Catherine stayed in New York City after she graduated. Living in the City made her feel strong and self-sufficient. Her job may not have been anything great, but she had many friends and her social card was always filled, even if her dates were few and far between.

Catherine was not looking for love when she attended a society wedding in New York between one of her college friends and a handsome Brit in the summer of 1977. She understood she was too tall, thin and angular to attract serious attention from most men, as the seventies ideal was Farrah Fawcett, while she looked like the love child of David Bowie and Twiggy.

Too, she had no illusions that the older man she was preparing to approach would have any interest in her. She already thought she knew what he was about when his eyes lingered on the attractive man serving canapes and barely glanced at the well endowed woman with the plunging neckline. However, Catherine had enough of standing around herself and she thought the alternative at least would stave off her boredom.

She had boldly approached him and asked (a little flattery never hurt), "What's a handsome man like you doing standing around and not dancing? I don't see a ring and there are many beautiful women around."

"Are you offering your services, Miss . . . ?" His warm British accent curled her toes.

"Catherine Fitzwilliam, and yes I am. And your name is?"

"Louis De Bourgh, confirmed bachelor at your service. I won't tell of my titles as you Americans don't believe in such things."

By such a comment, Catherine knew she was to inquire further but she was also determined to give him no such satisfaction. "The only title that is important now is 'skilled dancer.' Have you such a title, sir?"

"Indeed!" There was nothing further, than, for him to offer his hand to lead her to the dance floor and for her to place her hand in his.

Louis De Bourgh was indeed a skilled dancer and Catherine enjoyed partnering him. They fell into an easy conversation when they tired of dancing and seated themselves at one of the tables. As she began with no expectations, she was easy around him, light, playful.

By the end of the evening, Louis decided Catherine might make a pleasant companion for social events. He told her, "Catherine, I have not had such a pleasant evening in a long time at a social obligation. Do you think you might be willing to attend a few like gatherings with me?"

Catherine readily agreed and soon enough they were going out at least three days a week. In attending so many events on his arm, gradually a certain expectation grew on the part of Louis's social set (which was rapidly becoming Catherine's social set as well). As it would ease some difficulties he had experienced, he ended up playing the part of suitor most willingly.

As time went on, Louis began to consider more seriously whether he might desire to marry Catherine. In such an arrangement, he saw a solution to a problem that had long plagued him, the gaining of a companion he enjoyed, and a way to finally have the children he had long desired.

Though Catherine began dating Louis with no expectations given what she knew, somewhere along the way, Catherine began to fall, against reason, against her better judgment, knowing it was hopeless to truly gain what she desired most. While she knew that likely she could gain his name, she did not think she could gain his heart.

One evening after another society party, after driving her home, Louis did not lean in for his typical perfunctory kiss (when he kissed her where there were observers, he put more of an effort into it, but when he returned her home it was always simply a social nicety to acknowledge the evening). Instead, he got down on one knee and held her hand. Looking up at her, he asked, "Will you, Catherine, do me the great honor of accepting my hand in marriage. I offer you companionship, esteem and all that I have."

Catherine was not surprised to be receiving his proposal; given the amount of time they spent in one another's company, it almost seemed inevitable. She carefully listened to Louis's words, noting that he did not lie by speaking of love, but seemed genuine in what he did say. Some part of her thought, I can change him, but she tried her best to silence that part of her; truly it was hopeless from what she understood of the matter. It would be easy enough to accept his proposal and say nothing. However, she had no wish to enter into a marriage with him under false pretenses and she thought it most prudent to have a frank discussion with him.

Thus her reply was, "I will accept, of course, but I have conditions."

As Louis was not run away with his feelings, he was not unduly dismayed. "What are they?"

"I must have complete honesty and fidelity. I do not wish to offend you, but surely you know that I know."

"Know what?"

"Louis, you are a homosexual, are you not?"

He was a bit surprised that she knew, but his surprise was tempered by the fact that she did not seem unduly troubled.

"Yes, I will admit it, though this never goes any further."

"It will not, Louis, you can trust me; I suspected since the night I met you, and that suspicion has been confirmed over and over (though you mostly guard your public behavior well, your eyes reveal all) and would never say a word. Too, there was that time when (after making eyes as the maître d′) you were gone nearly twenty minutes. Although you said you had gone to the bathroom, you returned rather flushed. You may feel however you feel, look at what you wish, fantasize freely, confide in me about it and I will even dress and act as much like a young man as I can when we are alone if that would prove helpful to you, but if I marry you I will not share you with another. As I will be faithful to you, I expect and believe I am entitled to the same."

Louis, who had planned on continuing in his double life in New York with the trimming of respectability a marriage would give him, understood then that he could not get his cake and eat it too. He was not sure what he wanted to do. He would not agree to something with no plan to follow through as he was a man of integrity. However, while his honor was important to him, his desires were very strong. He had an important decision before him that in many ways was more difficult than the decision to marry.

"Catherine, do you truly understand what you are asking of me? I must have some time to think it over."

"Of course, you may have whatever time you need. I am in no hurry to marry. However, there is something else I must tell you; something else you ought to know. I have tried to guard my heart as I know any regard you bear for me does not match your desires; it is not how you are made. But I was made to love a man; that is my nature. Against my better judgment I have fallen for you, knowing it is hopeless for me to fully gain your heart even should we marry."

Louis was troubled. He had not thought that Catherine's heart was touched. As neither of them had discussed their feelings, he thought both of them had merely the affection of friendship. Before he had worried that in proposing he was eliminating her chance to find love with another. While perhaps he should have felt relieved to be the object of her affection, he felt in marrying her, he could only disappoint her.

But when he expressed that worry, she told him, "Louis, I understand you, I really do. I will do my best to be content with what you can give me as long as I have no true cause for jealousy."

Ultimately he agreed and they married. The wedding was everything she desired, and there was dancing afterwards.

Shortly after their marriage he bought their estate, far from New York City and those he had known. They selected a location close enough to her relatives to satisfy her, but far enough from any big city to keep him from easy temptation. They both agreed on the mansion they chose when they saw it had a ballroom; almost annually they hosted a ball and Catherine had many happy memories of dancing in Louis's arms.

Of course they were not always at Rosings. But when Louis had to travel, Catherine always went with him and was his virtual shadow. He told her that he needed that. They employed handsome men on their estate, after making sure each was happily married, as he still enjoyed the aesthetic of them and seeing them aided him in the bedroom with her.

Catherine was content to be his wife. As they both wanted children but he had no desire for her as she was, the getting of them required some creativity and play-acting. He invented a persona for her, that he called, "Joe." She cut her hair, they left the lights off and they got on well enough. He liked the fantasy of "Joe" so well that he even commissioned a painter to paint a male version of Catherine, telling the painter she had a twin brother that died, that closely resembled her, and that it was to be a gift for her parents.

Catherine delayed telling Louis when she believed she might be expecting, to prolong his efforts, but as he had been keeping track of her cycle nearly as closely as she had, she was not successful. She tried not to care that he had even less interest in her form as it swelled to more womanly proportions during the pregnancy, and that her desires during that time remained unfulfilled.

Louis may not have loved her as a husband is to love a wife, yet he was certainly fond of her, doted on her, tried his best to make her happy. He had taken delight in each of their children, had found value in her and she had no doubt that she was of much use to him. It had been enough; it had to be, there was no other option.

Yet as the years marched on, gradually it had all been taken away. First Jeffrey (far too soon when he was yet a boy), then Louis (not wholly unexpected, given his more advanced years, yet she had thought to have him with her for longer than the dozen years they had) and finally Anne (after many years of suffering), while Catherine herself remained strong and only slightly weaker with age though she was soon to be sixty-seven. Having Louis's millions (he had invested very well early on, had a knack for anticipating trends, investing in first IBM and then in Microsoft in 1986 when it first went public), did nothing to fill her heart.

As the years marched on, Catherine wondered whether she had been enough for Louis. Perhaps there had been a man out there who would have made him feel whole. There was that one time he cheated on her, only a couple of years after their marriage, shortly after Jeffrey had been born; it turned out one of their manservants was not actually happily married but had a marriage much like theirs. However, Louis had confessed it all, they sacked the man with a more than generous severance and she had forgiven Louis. But that was not about love, but desire.

Catherine felt it was equally possible, much more likely in fact that Louis would have remained unfulfilled, perhaps satisfying his baser man but not ever finding love and ultimately succumbing to disease. She remembered in the early 80s how Louis had closely followed the news for mentions of the disease killing gay men. Later, in reading an obituary of someone he had known, he tried to call a few former associates without success.

Finally he tried to reach the man who had tried to talk him out of marrying Catherine. Bill had said, "It can never last; why are you doing that to her? She is a nice enough beard but I know who you are; you just need to accept it and stop caring about being respectable and about what other people think. We've been closeted long enough and it will take successful men like you embracing who you are to help us finally be accepted. It cannot be too far off."

They exchanged a bit of small talk and finally Bill said, "Let's cut the crap. I know you did not call up just to chat. What is it you want to know?"

Louis began asking about every gay man he thought Bill might know and what he learned was quite grim. Almost everyone he had known had sickened or died, or no one knew what had become of them. "And you, Bill, how are you doing?"

"Louis, I've got the Karposi Sarcoma and things are not going well. How about you, are you sick yet?"

"No, its been years since I have been with anyone but my wife."

"What the f*** Louis, you must think you are so smart now. You abandoned us. You should be here with us, helping us, not living it up on some estate."

"I've been donating to AIDS research, ten percent of what I have. I've been doing my part," Louis tried to justify himself.

Bill let fly with a string of expletives. For some unknown reason Louis felt compelled to listen to them all instead of just hanging up. Finally Bill grew quiet.

"I'll send you some money," Louis told him and they worked out arrangements. Louis did not give Bill his number and never tried to contact him again. He fully expected that soon Bill's number would be disconnected like all the others.

Afterwards, Louis sought Catherine out. When she saw him she asked him, "Louis are you sick?" She could still recall how pale and clammy he appeared, like someone who was indeed very ill. He told her everything that he had learned from Bill. Catherine marched him to his bed and cared for him all that day like he was Jeffrey, as if he were truly ill. She supposed he was truly ill; it would be a tremendous blow to anyone. She did not understand until later that he was also feeling survivor's guilt.

Later that evening, Louis came to see Catherine in her bedroom (she was sitting up in bed, reading by the light of a lamp). He told her, "Catherine, thank God for you. I think you saved me from a horrible death by insisting that if we married I had to leave that life behind."

"Louis, I am so glad." She gathered him up in her arms and he sobbed like a small child.

When he finally quieted somewhat she told him, "I've been thinking this all through, too. Thank you for being faithful after that one time. If not for that, we might both be ill."

This thought had not occurred to Louis, though afterwards he thought it should have. He felt how close he had come to a precipice without careening off it and pulling her over, too. Gratitude flooded through him and he found himself kissing his wife and then doing much more than that. In seeking comfort in her arms, this was one of the few times when there was no pretending, no darkened room. Instead it was about making love to her just as they were. It had been a long time since they had engaged in that particular act, facing each other, entwined together.

Though Catherine knew it was a product of his guilt and relief, similar to how others might react after attending a funeral, an act of affirmation in the fact of still being alive, she could not help but revel in it, treasuring it all the more because she knew it would not last. It was only fitting that this act of love resulted the following year in the birth of Anne. While his nature did not change, the memory of that night sustained her.

Looking back on everything, it occurred to Catherine that in a way, Bill had been right. Things had changed so much in her lifetime and it was from people who were willing to stand out and not care what other people thought. If Louis had lived in the current era, he could have married a man, adopted children with him or fathered children with a surrogate. Now HIV was survivable rather than a death sentence.

For not the first time, Catherine had to remind herself that the decisions they had made, had been dictated by the times they lived in. However, her heart rebelled against living in an era where he would never have sought to marry her, in which her children (though their time on Earth had been limited), would have never been born.

So caught up in remembrances was she, that at first she did not hear the timid tapping on her door. It repeated again, slightly louder, slightly more insistent. Catherine knew it was not one of her servants. They had been taught to knock firmly three times, wait five seconds and then ask, "May I enter, please?" then wait a further five seconds and if there was no response they could enter.

Before she even heard the voice that matched the knock, Lady Catherine suspected it was her niece, Georgiana. Her suspicion was confirmed when a quite voice said, "Aunt Catherine, it is me, Georgiana. I want to talk with you."

Catherine quickly tried to dry her tears and then forced herself to acknowledge her, "You may come in, my dear."

"It isn't right for you to be alone, Aunt Catherine," Georgiana declared. "I understand how much it must have cost you to give Anne's dress to Mary. It was very generous of you."

"It was nothing, it was just hanging in the closet collecting dust like the rest of her clothes. I really should do something with them; they could benefit so many people."

And then, perhaps because she had let Georgiana in, just a little, she confessed, "I still have all of Louis's clothes, Jeffrey's too. It has been so long, they are all vintage now, many of them must be ruined by now from the passage of time, all the elastic rotten and such, but even those that might be well, well most of them would be horribly out of style."

She did not mention (though the image soared through her mind), that in Louis's bedroom closet, concealed within a locked armoire was the painting of "Joe." Though the thought flickered through her mind, she sidetracked it, thinking instead of thought of how short men's shorts had been. Louis had always had nice thighs even until the end.

Louis jogged and so she had learned to jog, so she could jog with him. She knew that was a dangerous line of thinking and she tried to redirect her thoughts, but suddenly she was back to that day when she paused, turned back and saw that the sound she had heard through the music on her Walkman was caused by Louis's body hitting the pavement. He had gone from telling her a few minutes earlier that he did not feel so well and perhaps they ought to cut their run short, to suddenly collapsing. A heart attack had felled him and he had died soon after. Perhaps if they had lived closer to a major city more might have been done.

"I understand how hard it could be to give something like that up."

It took a moment for Catherine to understand the context of that sentence, but then she remembered they were talking of clothes. "It is odd how clothes and possessions exist longer than flesh and blood," she told Georgiana. "Someday I will be gone but Rosings will look the same as always."

"Yes, just like Pemberley still does, still did, after my parents were gone."

Georgiana paused a moment and then said, "Aunt Catherine, you are my link to my mother, and I have been realizing that you have long sought to give me a mother's love. It is not right that my parents were taken from me, or your children from you, but we still have one another. You still have Fitzwilliam and Richard."

"No it is not right that those who are gone are gone," Catherine acknowledged. "Your mother was a wonderful woman and loved you very much." Catherine then began to share stories with Georgiana about her mother. In doing so, Catherine began to feel better. She wondered, what is the point of feeling sorry for myself when I have a house full of guests and events to host? She glanced at the clock, "Georgiana, it is almost time for dinner! We must hurry if we are to be presentable."

Then Georgiana and Catherine went to Catherine's large bedroom mirror and primped a bit together. Catherine opened her wall safe and pulled out some jewelry that she knew would match Georgiana's outfit perfectly. As she placed the necklace around Georgiana's neck, she told her about the time Georgiana's mother had worn it. It was not a piece that Georgiana would have ever worn, but the story connecting it to her made it lovely to her. Georgiana felt strongly how ironic it was that she had gone to comfort her aunt and had ended up being comforted instead. When they went down for dinner, they each felt they had a better understanding of the other and they were both smiling.


	9. When You Have A Good Day, Enjoy It

**Chapter 9: When You Have A Good Day, Enjoy It**

Richard was determined to make the night one which Mary would remember fondly for her whole life. Having fully consulted with both Georgiana and Elizabeth, and then embarked on preparations of his own, he was confident that he was as well prepared as possible.

While they were awaiting dinner (Aunt Catherine and Georgiana had been oddly late) he had excused himself for a few moments so that he could place a bouquet of flowers and a card right outside her door where they would be waiting when she went back to her room to change for the ball. He arrived back just when everyone was seating themselves and somehow managed not to get a seat besides Mary, which was disappointing.

During dinner, Elizabeth was a bit worried for her sister Mary as Lady Catherine seemed her usual self, trying to find out as much as she could about Mary. Elizabeth worried that she should have thought to prepare her sister. Certainly Lady Catherine knew all about the Bennets, so it meant that the questioning was quite focused on Mary herself.

At first Lady Catherine's questions did not dismay Mary much. She seemed simply trying to fill in some blanks that she had from whatever she had previously learned from Elizabeth. So Lady Catherine asked questions like, where Mary fell in the order of the sisters, how much younger she was than Elizabeth and whether she had previously visited Pemberley and whether she had prior acquaintance with Richard before they began dating.

Then Lady Catherine asked, "You must be in your forties by now. How old are you exactly and why have you never married?"

Mary felt mortified to be asked such impertinent questions, especially as the rest of the table had grown silent during Lady Catherine's interrogation, but did her best to seem composed as she answered, in a way that felt to her to be more like her sister Elizabeth than herself, "It is not considered polite to inquire as to a woman's age, but I have no objection in sharing that I am now forty-one. I have never married as I preferred remaining single rather than marrying simply for the sake of being married."

Lady Catherine observed, "When I first met your sister Elizabeth, I thought it likely that Richard had some interest in her and she in him. However, I suppose I might have been mistaken given who she ended up marrying."

Mary looked over at Richard, who merely shrugged. It was true that he had fancied Elizabeth, half felt himself to be in love, but knowing that he would be deploying soon knew he had no business in getting involved with anyone. It had come as a blow to him to learn months later that she was engaged to his cousin. It was after seeing them together and so happy years later when he was stationed once again state-side that he had begun dating Caroline. He had not talked to Mary about ever being interested in her sister or the role it had played in him beginning to date Caroline.

Mary felt her face becoming hot. Had Richard truly fancied her sister first? She felt all of her old insecurities springing to life.

Then Lady Catherine observed, "I have heard from your sister Elizabeth that you play the piano."

"Yes, I do," Mary answered.

"And what is it you do for your occupation?"

"I give piano lessons."

"What a particular occupation in this day and age. Still, I suppose it is satisfactory to have more musicians in the family."

It was only afterwards that it would occur to Mary that this was an endorsement of her continued presence in Richard's and Lacey's lives, perhaps even a permission for Richard to someday marry her, or as much of permission as anyone was likely to gain from the great lady.

Mary was feeling a bit insecure when Richard vanished again right after dinner. She couldn't understand why Richard had invited her to come on this trip with him and Lacey, if he was going to be absent for so much of it. She wondered if he regretted bringing her. Had he decided it was too much, too soon? Perhaps in seeing her compared with her sister Elizabeth, he found her wanting.

Mary felt Richard was sending her mixed signals. He had been so attentive during dinner, too attentive really after Lady Catherine's interrogation. She kept finding him looking over at her, even when the dinner conversation was occurring elsewhere. It made her wonder if she had a stain on her shirt or a bit of spinach in her teeth. But then sometimes it felt like he wasn't really looking at her at all, but at something else of his own imagining.

Richard, had he been asked, would have told the asker that he wanted Mary to know that he was devoted to her. But that was not really it at all, in knowing what he had planned, he was memorizing everything about Mary. He was noting every little smile and expression, where her freckles were, basking in merely being in the presence of his beloved. He was also imagining the proposal he had planned and adjusting little details of it. He was both too aware of what was going on around him and not attentive enough. He worried that because he had not said the words, that she might not be ready for his proposal and questioning whether he should say them earlier, or wait and announce them as part of his proposal.

He took himself off immediately after dinner as he wanted to consult with his cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy about what he had planned. After all, Mary was his sister-in-law and he wanted Fitz's blessing as odd as that might seem (really he wanted her father's blessing, but would wait for that until he could meet with him in person after a hopefully favorable response). Yes, it was old fashioned and yes Mary was more than old enough to know her own mind, but there was something nice about such traditions.

Richard knew that Mary's parents approved of him; that was not at issue. Mrs. Bennet, especially, had been most effusive in telling him (she had somehow been waiting for him when he dropped Mary off after their second date). She said, "Oh, General Fitzwilliam, I am so pleased you are interested in my Mary. She will make you a wonderful wife and be a terrific step-mother for your daughter. I am sure she will be ready to marry you whenever you are so inclined."

Richard felt that it was fortunate that he was not a younger man as likely he would have run for the hills. Mrs. Bennet would be enough to scare any single man off. However, Mary had already warned him that her mother was likely to get very carried away from the fact that they were going out on another date, while she was happy just to be getting to know him better.

Her father was a more restrained sort and Richard had not had much of a sense of him, but had no reason to believe her father would not be satisfied to have his last single daughter marry.

As Richard had rushed off, Mary sought out Elizabeth before she left the dining room. "Do you have a minute?"

Mary watched as Elizabeth exchanged a quick glance with her husband. She admired how they were able to resolve things without even a word, though her brother-in-law did say, "I hope you won't be too long."

Mary waited until everyone was well gone before asking, searching her sister's face for her reaction, "Elizabeth, is it true? Did you and Richard like one another before you dated and married Fitzwilliam Darcy?"

Elizabeth gave a little shrug. "I did like Richard almost immediately upon meeting him and certainly found him much more charming than Willie, even though Richard was a new acquaintance and I had known Willie for a while. Richard definitely had better manners and was an amusing conversationalist. However, there was never anything between us but perhaps a bit of flirting. He told me early on that he would be deploying soon and could not be involved with anyone. Even if he had not, we were the two of us too similar in temperament. I know it is better that I married Willie. That whole thing about still waters running deep is all too true. The depth of feeling he has, well, it was astonishing to me. On his own Willie is too reserved and serious, I help him be a bit more carefree and he grounds me. Why do you think I call him Willie? It is my way of helping him to not take himself too seriously. I still like Richard, but just as a friend. He is easy to get along with. In seeing you together, I think that you suit each other well. You provide him with a grounding much as Willie does for me."

"But I don't know what Richard is really feeling about me, Lizzy. I know he is fond of me, but perhaps our feelings are unequal."

"You love him, don't you Mary?"

"Yes, but I have not told him that. Isn't the man supposed to tell the woman first? I don't want to scare him away."

"I don't think you can, Mary. I think he is all in. What do you want from your relationship? Where do you see it going?"

Mary looked down, suddenly embarrassed. She whispered, "I am really hoping that we will get married and sooner rather than later. It may be too late, but I would really like to have a baby, but I have never wanted to do that on my own. He is such a good father and I love his daughter also, but I want my own, also."

Elizabeth was very tempted to share what she knew, but she settled for saying, "I think Richard loves you and will ask you to marry him one of these days."

The sisters exchanged a hug then and Mary walked to her room feeling more at ease. She was surprised to see a lovely bouquet of flowers, in several shades of pink and white waiting for her with a card that said her name in Richard's handwriting. She brought the flowers and card inside the room and took a deep sniff. Yes, she was right, those large white blossoms were gardenias, her favorite flower by far. Mary was surprised that Richard had remembered. With no particular expectation of what the card would say, she opened it and read:

_Dear Mary,_

_Would you do me the great honor of allowing me to escort you to the ball? I find that I am obligated to share a few dances with my daughter, but want nothing more than to have the pleasure of your company this evening._

_Richard_

Mary pulled out her phone and texted Richard: _Of course I will go to the ball with you._

He texted back immediately, _Terrific. Tell me when you are ready and I'll come get you._

A moment later, Mary heard three raps on her door. She opened the door to find a woman pleasant looking woman with a tote bag over her arm. "I am Megan, Lady Catherine assigned me to help you with your hair and makeup for the ball. All the ladies have help assigned to get them ready for tonight."

Mary was ready to turn Megan down on the offer but then decided it might be nice to have someone help her look her best. She did not want to be the dowdy one at the ball.

When Mary texted Richard to tell him that she was ready, she was amazed at all that Megan had done. Of course the dress was lovely and had done much to transform her appearance, but the soft curls and mostly natural but enhancing makeup highlighted her eyes and lips, made Mary feel beautiful.

It felt as if Richard was waiting for her text as it seemed to only be a moment later when there was another knock on her door, a familiar Richard knock.

Mary opened the door and admired how good Richard looked in the tuxedo he was wearing. But even better was the look he had on his face when he saw her. "Mary, you look beautiful, just perfect. You always look beautiful, but now I know without a doubt that I will have the most beautiful woman on my arm to night."

He held out a florist's box with a wrist corsage inside, like the kind Mary recalled girls used to wear at dances. It was lovely and had another gardenia at its center, flanked by yellow rosebuds that were just the right color to go with her dress. Mary opened up the box and then held out her left wrist. Richard obligingly slipped the corsage on her wrist. Mary enjoyed feeling his fingers on her wrist. When the corsage was in place, he held her hand, brought it up to his lips, and placed a light kiss on the back of her hand.

Richard held her hand to his lips just a bit too long, enjoying the smile that graced her face and the slight inhale she made at this kiss. He liked that Mary was unspoiled. She could find delight in things that others might find pedestrian or unremarkable.

Mary exited the door, pausing while Richard picked up another florist box from the ground. "For Lacey," he explained. "Shall we?" He held out his arm, which Mary grasped. It seemed so formal, but also so delightful. "Lacey should already be in the ballroom."

When they reached the ballroom, they found Lacey talking with Jane. They were both wearing Disney princess costumes. There were a couple of boys running around as Batman and Spiderman.

"Daddy, Mary!" Lacey could not help but keeping looking at them in astonishment. Mary really did look like a princess, so Lacey told her so. "Mary, you look just like a princess, like Belle. Daddy is like when the Beast turned into Adam."

Richard held out the florist box, "Here, Lacey."

"For me? Those are pretty flowers, Daddy, but where is the vase?"

"These are a corsage, Lacey, like Mary has. You wear them on your wrist." He opened the box and said, "Hold out your hand." He then slipped the flowers over her wrist and immediately exclaimed, "Oops, it looks like the florist messed up a little, they were supposed to make the wrist band a lot smaller for you, so it would fit you."

"It is okay, Daddy." Lacey exclaimed, pushing the corsage up until it rested above her elbow. "It fits okay up here."

"Do you really want to wear it up there?" Mary asked. "I have some needle and thread in my room if you want me to make the strap smaller so it will fit your wrist."

Lacey appreciated how Mary was letting her choose, rather than deciding for her. "No, thank you, Mary. I want to dance with Daddy when the music starts."

Mary looked around and noticed that it looked like everyone was present now, Georgiana and her husband having just slipped in while they were getting the corsage sorted out with Lacey. She noticed there was what looked to be a jazz band waiting to perform. Lady Catherine said some opening words and then Mary watched as Richard danced with Lacey. They were quite cute together.

After two songs she heard Lacey say, "That's enough, Daddy. I am tired of being Belle and Mary has been waiting to dance and it is her turn now."

And dance they did. At times Richard's glance was so intense that Mary would almost forget to breath. It felt wonderful to be in his arms and she had eyes only for him, too. Mary had only a vague sense of what was going on around them: the children chasing each other around in superhero costumes; Jane dancing with her father; Lady Catherine dancing with their cousin Will Collins; the temporary chaos of a spilled and broken cup of punch. But she took no more note of these things than someone might of a the traces of floating dust visible when the sun was just right, or bird song vaguely heard while still abed. Mary could not have told you what anyone else was wearing, or about the particular songs they were dancing to, she only knew that she was supremely happy and was exactly where she wanted to be.

Mary was finally forced to take a break when the musicians stopped for an interval and Richard escorted her off the dance floor and to the punch bowl. It seemed almost quaint that there was a punch bowl at all (and that they were drinking from the actual punch cups). After he had filled two cups, Richard walked them to a table for two and it was only after Mary sat down that she realized how sore her feet were. She sat and sipped, finally looking around her a bit.

It was only when Richard excused himself for a moment and disappeared from view, that the world around Mary snapped into more clarity. She recalled that the children were supposed to be excused from the dance now and taken to watch a movie. She saw Lacey arguing with one of Elizabeth's boys. Her words carried as there was no music playing.

"I am too Superman," Lacey insisted. Mary noticed Lacey had traded in her Belle costume for a Superman one.

"No you aren't. You are Supergirl, 'cause you're a girl." Mary noticed the boy arguing with Lacey was Elizabeth's youngest, Cole. He was wearing an Optimus Prime costume, which oddly enough had padded muscles rather than the stiff straight parts of a robot alien who had transformed from being a truck. Mary knew all about transformers. She was old enough to have seen the original cartoons in the 80s and she remembered wanting a transformer toy. Additionally, she had enough nephews that she was quite familiar with the movies and had sympathized with her sister Jane about how they really should have edited the movies to not be PG-13 when the only people who really wanted to see them were younger kids and nostalgic men.

"No, dummy. I am wearing the Superman costume, with the muscles and everything. That means I am Superman." Lacey looked rather put out. She had her hands on her hips and wore a pouty expression formed with stiff lips.

Elizabeth's daughter Jane came up right next to Lacey. Jane was still wearing her Cinderella costume. In her best big-sister tone she said, "Lacey is right Cole, she is Superman; her costume has muscles and pants, not a skirt."

Just then, Richard approached the children. She heard him say, "Lacey can be Superman if she wants to be. After all, you are being an alien truck man and you aren't really the Autobot Optimus Prime, now are you?"

"See! My daddy knows everything." Lacey stuck her tongue out at Cole. Mary was pretty sure that Richard didn't see her do it.

Then the temporary nannies converged and the children were escorted out of the ballroom, Lacey and the boy still arguing over who she was. Richard came back to Mary and sat back down. "Well that was pretty silly, wasn't it."

Whatever spell Mary had been under earlier was fully broken. Her mind was busy thinking about Lacey being Superman.

"Yes, but I get where Lacey is coming from," Mary told Richard. "Everyone knows that Superman is better than Supergirl, even if they technically have all the same powers as Superman is the famous one, who has been around forever. And she is a girl, not a woman. And anyway, why does she have to wear a skirt? It hardly seems practical for flying. It must be like those skirts the female tennis players wear. Do you know they have special thick underwear they put on under those skirts which have little netting pouches for holding their tennis balls?"

Mary noticed that Richard wasn't saying anything, just listening to her mini-tirade, an admiring grin on his face. It instantly made him handsome and desirable. Mary began to lose her train of thought. Why was she arguing the merits of Superman versus Supergirl? What did it really matter?

"You are amazing, do you know that? Cole is your nephew, but you are all on my daughter's side."

Mary responded with a little grin of her own. "Girls need to stand up for each other when boys try to put them in their place."

"So you are a girl, now, are you? I thought it was demeaning that Supergirl isn't Superwoman."

Mary tried to explain, "It isn't when she is truly a girl, but once she is an adult she really should be called Superwoman. And anyway, don't you know that women get to refer to themselves as girls as long as they want to, but men don't get to use the term, especially not in a limiting or demeaning way?"

"So is is okay that you are my girlfriend and not my woman-friend?" Richard had a glint in his eyes and a bit of a smirk.

"Yes, because woman-friend sounds like someone who you have an arrangement with, rather than a relationship. And you're my boyfriend, aren't you? Rather than my man-friend?"

"Yes, Mary, but I want to be far more than that." When the words left Richard's lips, he wondered what on earth he was doing. He felt a momentary panic. He didn't want to start off his proposal in this way.

"What do you mean?" Mary had a vague sense that maybe he was saying he wanted to move their relationship further along in the physical plane. They regularly kissed, held each other tight and sometimes caressed each other through their clothes, and when they were alone on one or another of their couches, Mary often had her legs across Richard's lap and he idly stroked her legs, but Richard had not tried to initiate anything further.

She wondered if seeing her all dressed up had made him more aware of her womanly form. She felt a vague disappointment that he might want more just because of how she looked this evening.

Richard forced himself to backtrack from immediately proposing. This was not the setting he had planned, or the manner. He did not even have the ring on him, had worried he might somehow lose it in the interval. "I mean I want a future with you, Mary. I thought you knew that, when I introduced you to Lacey. That was a big deal. I have dated other people since Caroline, but you are the first one I wanted her to get to know and you are terrific with her. I can really see you being in our lives for good. I hope you want that, too!"

"Oh, I do, Richard, of course I do." Mary felt reassured. Maybe Elizabeth had been right after all.

When the musicians began to play again, Mary resumed dancing with Richard. It was delightful and she enjoyed herself well enough, but she found herself distracted.

What kind of future did Richard see for them? Mary wondered. She was perhaps on the verge of all she had ever wanted, but how many months and years was it to be denied to her? She wished she were younger, that she could wait until Richard knew she was truly the one for him. Mary for all her talk of Lacey being Superman if she wanted to be, did not want to be the one to propose. Mary, while wanting to be seen as an equal, had a strong traditional streak; she was not the sort of woman who would propose to her boyfriend. She wanted him to be ready, him to make that move. She feared though, that being naturally gun-shy after how wrong everything had gone with Caroline that her chance of ever having children on her own might be well and truly gone by the time he was ready to propose.

After the dance concluded (many of the other couple had left before the last song), Richard walked Mary to her room door. Before opening the door, Mary turned back to him and Richard was reminded of their first date in which he was not sure if she would turn back to him or just walk into her home. With that memory in mind, Richard leaned in for a hug. They hugged for a long time before they released each other.

"Do you remember our first date?" Richard asked. Mary nodded. "When I took you home I wasn't sure that you wouldn't just unlock your door, walk inside and slam the door in my face," Richard confessed.

"Do you really think I would have been as mean as that?" Mary couldn't help but smile at the memory.

"Well, I didn't know you well and as I recall I spent most of our date complaining about Caroline."

"Maybe it wasn't your finest moment, but I appreciated you trusting me with that," Mary confided.

"The hug was great," Richard responded, "but what I really wanted to do was to take you into my arms and do this . . ." As he said the words "take you into my arms" he was doing just that, and then he was leaning into her and kissing her. The kiss started out tender and sweet, but quickly turned passionate. When they broke for air, they were both breathing hard.

"If you aren't too tired . . . "

"I am not tired at all," Mary told him, though her legs ached and she was tired.

"Maybe I can come back in a few minutes. I want to change out of this tux and take you for a drive outside. The stars are really spectacular out so far away from everything and I have a surprise for you."

"I wouldn't mind getting out of this dress and taking down my hair. Mary admitted." She stifled a yawn as she did not want Richard to rescind his offer. "It should just take me a few minutes. I will text you when I am ready."

Mary took off her dress, wiped her makeup off (noting that Richard had smeared her lipstick and likely had some on his own lips after that kiss) and changed into jeans, a t-shirt. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail and grabbed a little fleece jacket, anticipating nothing more than a little romantic interlude under the stars. They had never had a late date as Richard always had to pick up Lacey, but with the whole staff of nannies, they could be out as late as they wanted to be.

Richard met her with a picnic basket on his arm and a quilt. Mary decided that a midnight picnic was the surprise Richard had mentioned. They drove in mostly silence and ended up parked off a country road near a large empty field. Mary wanted to hold Richard's hand but in one hand he carried the picnic basket and his other hand was holding a flashlight. Mary grabbed his flashlight holding arm at the elbow.

Richard walked perhaps fifty feet from the road before he stopped, spread out a quilt and beckoned for Mary to sit as he laid out picnic supplies. "I am not sure how much you had to eat at dinner with Aunt Catherine grilling you like that, and also, dancing makes me hungry."

They ate sandwiches on proper plates, drank orange soda (Mary's favorite) from champagne flutes and fed each other grapes. It was very romantic eating in the mostly dark, but for the flashlight Richard had cast haphazardly on the quilt. When they were finished, Richard packed up the basket, placed it to one side and then said, "Now for the real show." They lay back on the quilt and Richard turned off the flashlight. It was magnificent and Mary knew she had never known before how gorgeous the sky was when far away from any lights.

They stared and stared at the stars, holding hands and just enjoying staring off into space together. Mary knew she had never had such a romantic date. How wonderful to be sharing this with Richard. Mary did not want the date to end and told Richard just that.

"I don't want it to end either," Richard told her as he pulled up he into a sitting position, "but it is getting late." He fumbled around in his pocket, produced the flashlight and turned it on. "But before we go, I want to talk to you."

Richard turned a bit until they were facing each other, the flashlight casting a streak of light between them. Mary could barely tell it was Richard in the dim light, but for the way the little bit of light caught his crooked nose. Mary had long ago memorized that imperfection that made Richard, Richard.

"Mary, I am not always so good at words. I am always trying to lighten the mood, get people to laugh, keep serious thoughts at bay. Those qualities really helped me keep my men from focusing too much on the worst that could happen when we were in Afghanistan and Iraq. But right now I don't want to make a joke or have you think I am saying anything lightly or in jest. Mary," he paused speaking for a moment to tuck a bit of loose hair behind her ear, the sweep of his fingers lingering on her cheek, "Mary, I am completely in love with you, so much so that it scares me at times. We've known each other for less than a year but you are most important person to me save Lacey. I want forever with you."

Mary saw the movement when he dug into his other pocket and felt around. She couldn't quite tell what he was reaching for until he had it out. He held it out over the flashlight and Mary saw that he held something dark and cube-like. She heard it open, knew it was a box with a hinge but had not had time to make sense of what it might contain until he pulled the ring free and she caught a little flash of it reflecting the flashlight's light.

Then Richard was holding her left hand in his left hand, while the thumb and pointer finger of his right hand held the ring. "Mary, you are everything to me. Please darling, marry me?"

Mary was shocked, happy but shocked.

"Will you?" Richard entreated.

Mary then realized she had as of yet made no answer.

"Oh yes," she said the words while nodding. "I love you, too, and spending the rest of my life with you is all that I want, too."

He slipped the ring on her finger and the sensation felt strange to Mary, good but strange. She wasn't really the type of person who wore rings often, but she knew that this ring was staying right in this spot.

They embraced each other then, both delighted, both happy, both amazed at the mysterious alignment of the stars or maybe God's plan, that had brought them together. After long moments of hugging the other, Mary remarked, "Now that was a proper proposal and this spot shall forever be very special to me, but how will we ever find it again? And even if we do, maybe next time it will all be plowed up and growing crops."

"Mary, this spot, well it belongs to me. It is some land my parents gave me after my divorce went through. They wanted me to have something that was all my own, so that I might retire and put down roots. I know it is hardly a practical location for a house. You have your students in Meryton and much of our family is over there. Maybe this isn't the spot for our house, but we could put up a cabin and spend weekends out here with Lacey."

"I like that idea," Mary told him, imagining a snug little cabin off in the distance as they lay on a blanket and stared up at the stars again. In her imagining, it was not just Lacey sleeping in the cabin, but a younger child too, one that was hers and Richard's. The dream was most lovely, but Mary resolved to be content if it was never more than the three of them.


	10. Look For The Silver Lining

_I have tried hard to keep this chapter within a "T" rating, but matters of a sexual nature are experienced, discussed and recalled here. Also, please don't hate me for what Richard reveals; I had no idea that this was the case until I was partway through writing this chapter._

**Chapter 10: Look For The Silver Lining In Every Cloud**

When Richard escorted Mary back to her room all was quiet and Mary felt like a guilty teenager sneaking home after curfew. When they reached her door, Mary stood on her tippy-toes to plant a hot kiss on Richard's lips. He responded most eagerly and she found herself pressed against her hard wooden door as Richard's body pressed into hers, their mouths delving deeply into each others. Mary reveled in being in his arms, in being desired by him, by (she thought his new title through in her head, turned the word round and round in her mind) her fiance.

Mary knew what she wanted to do, whether it was proper or not in his aunt's home. Wasn't the ball more or less like a prom and had not many of her classmates indulged themselves afterwards?

Mary's mind briefly rested on her two serious boyfriends and what a disappointment being intimate with the first had been, especially her first time. She had been twenty-one and in college. She had thought she was in love, but it was a pale imitation to what she had with Richard. Mary remembered how when she said "okay" she had not meant that second, but was too embarrassed to do anything but go along when he whipped it out and put the condom on. They had been together a whole three times, with her finally getting a taste of what that kind of intimacy could really be like before he seemed to lose interest in her and they were broken up with Mary not knowing exactly when it had happened.

Her second serious boyfriend had been better in bed but even though she was twenty-seven, she knew she did not want to marry him, he was only okay, he was just someone to have for a date on the weekends. When she saw where things were heading she had gotten herself on the pill and even though he showed her his testing results were negative, had made him wear a condom every time.

But this was better, this would be right, they were going to get married after all. They belonged to each other. Had Richard always smelled so good? She wanted to know every inch of him and have him know every bit of her. She wanted to be bound to him with a physical joining.

Mary was suddenly very aware of how exposed they were out in the hall where anyone could see. This was not the place to keep doing what they were doing. Mary knew it would be good with Richard, very good and Mary thought (as much as she was capable on thinking when her body felt on fire with longing, more longing than she had ever felt before, had even known her body was capable of feeling) that she wouldn't mind getting married with a tiny lover-child nestled in her belly and it might be more or less be the right time of the month for a chance at that.

So she asked, when she was able to wrest her mouth free of his for a moment, "Don't you want to come in?"

Richard in looking in Mary's eyes, knew what she was really asking. He knew exactly what could, would (who was he trying to fool, a man only had so much self control when the woman he loved and wanted, was showing how much she wanted him) happen if he went in Mary's room. He wanted that, had wanted that for many months, but he hesitated. "There are things we should talk about, work out. It isn't that I don't want to . . ."

Mary said hotly in his ear, "Come to bed with me Richard. I want to be with you even if it is over quickly, I want our life together to begin already." She grabbed his hand and then he heard the click as she turned the knob with her other hand and he found himself blindly following her into the room.

Then they were kissing some more and removing each other's t-shirts, when Richard tugged them over to the loveseat rather than to the bed. He found himself seated as Mary climbed on top of him. As she laid hot kisses on him, his hands were caressing her neck, her back. He felt his fingers wandering, ready to unlatch her bra. He really wanted to, but he forced his hands down and then around to the front, to her shoulders.

Grasping her shoulders, Richard gently pulled Mary back a bit. "We really need to talk about this first and not get carried away."

"You don't want to?" Mary panted slightly, her lips full and rosy from their hot kisses, a look of longing in her eyes with a slightly tensed brow showing her confusion. "Don't you want me?"

"Of course I do, you know I do!" He glanced down to where she was straddling him and could feel all the evidence of his arousal. "It is just . . ."

"You don't have a condom." Mary finished what she thought he was about to say. "I love that you are responsible like that." She leaned forward and kissed his neck, pausing to add, "I don't have any and I'm not on the pill, but if we are going to be married soon, does it really matter?"

Richard was only half following what Mary was saying as he was quite distracted by the way she was kissing and touching him. He was so very tempted.

Mary ran a hand down Richard's chest, enjoying feeling the combined texture of his skin, muscles and chest hair, which was both like and unlike touching his arms when he was wearing short sleeves. Richard couldn't help but make a little "mmm" sound.

It took Richard a moment to understand Mary's next words, "I mean, in this day and age, no one would be all that scandalized if I had a bun in the oven before we say, 'I do,' would they?"

"Oh, Mary." What Richard had been planning to tell Mary evaporated when he understood the full import of her words and cooled his ardor.

"Please, Mary, can you sit beside me instead?"

She nodded, looking confused, but climbed off him and sat off at an angle to him, her legs draped across his lap in a like way as they had sat many times before.

Richard took up one of her hands and held it in his two hands, rubbing it gently. He looked at Mary as he told her, "This isn't how I planned to tell you about this, really I should have told you earlier, but . . ." he switched his gaze to her hand instead, ". . . I'm infertile."

"What . . . how?" Mary pulled her hand out of his in her confusion. "But I can see you in Lacey. I know she is yours!"

Richard met Mary's eyes then, "Yes, she is. But Lacey, as much as I wanted her, wasn't planned. Caroline wasn't very good about remembering to take the pill and she complained the whole pregnancy about how the baby was ruining her figure." Richard looked away again, retrieving Mary's hand and then rubbing it.

"I know Caroline loves Lacey, but she really didn't want another, and with how our marriage was, and how often she was gone and not acting as a mother, well it really seemed like we needed a more permanent solution. We talked about who should do it, but it is so much more invasive for the woman so in the end we decided I would be the one to get snipped."

Mary couldn't believe what she was hearing. The little half-formed fantasy she'd had of Lacey and a baby sleeping in the as yet unbuilt cabin as she and Richard looked up at the stars overhead was shattered and she wasn't sure what could replace it. Richard was still Richard and Lacey was still Lacey, and she still loved them both, but the Mary she had briefly considered as her future self, the one called both wife and mother, well that seemed almost impossible now.

Mary's emotions were running so high, from the pure joy of the perfect date that ended with their shared declaration of love and their engagement, the passion that seemed the perfect culmination of having her dearest dreams come true and now she felt like that day when she had jumped out a tree-house when pretending to be Superman and rather than soaring through the air as she had imagined, had fallen with a loud smack that knocked the wind out of her. Those moments when she could not breathe, the panic and fear, well that was something like what she was feeling now. She felt she had a taste of all that she desired, but it was nothing more than a mirage. Without a sound, tears began streaming down her face.

"Oh Mary, Mary please don't cry!" Richard looked stricken. "Please try to understand. I didn't know Caroline would cheat on me, that we would end up divorced or that I would meet and fall in love with you."

Mary nodded through her tears. She did understand, she didn't really blame him. She knew how short of a time she had been in Richard's life. But understanding didn't mean she still wasn't feeling miserable.

"Please Mary, please. I can't stand to see you cry."

Although Mary could not see Richard well through her tears, she heard all the emotion in his voice. He sounded miserable and as if he was about to cry too. Mary did her best to blink back her tears.

"Mary, you've got to know, if I could take back that decision now I would." Richard was looking so earnestly at her. "I don't need another child, I am fifty-one now, which is ancient compared to all the other dads at Lacey's school, but if anyone was meant to be a mother, you are, not Caroline. I never wanted to take that away from you."

Mary nodded, she did not doubt Richard's sincerity.

"That's how you knew that Carolina's second baby wasn't your own," Mary commented, seeing how the pieces came together. She was a little calmer now, and tried to make herself be rational. She swiped at her eyes with her hands, missed having a shirt on that she could use. Mary was suddenly struck with the incongruity of having this kind of conversation while sitting there in just her bra, and not a nice bra that a guy might really want to see, but a practical beige one. She sprung up and found her shirt, pulled it over her head and then retrieved Richard's and brought it to him. As he was putting it back on, she found a box of tissues and wiped and blew a few times.

After that interruption, Richard continued. "Yes. Caroline tried to claim the procedure must have failed, but I knew. They do testing a few months afterwards to make sure none of the fellows are getting through. I just couldn't raise another man's child as my own, knowing the truth. It was the last straw and what made me file for a divorce. Of course the judge made us do paternity testing, after Charlie was born, but I hadn't a doubt I would be excluded."

Mary talked things through. "So in a way, your vasectomy is a good thing, since it helped you know the truth. I guess I just thought the timing didn't add up, that maybe you hadn't been together for a while."

"I wish I could say we weren't together then, but as awful as our relationship often was, we still enjoyed the physical side of things. So I would have thought he was mine if not for the procedure."

Mary's eyes were dry now, but though she had re-seated herself next to Richard, there was a space between them.

"But Mary, it isn't impossible; I've been looking into things. A reversal might work and there is some technique where they can get some sperm straight from the source. I'll do whatever, to give us the best chance, if that's what you want. Mary, you are worth it, but I couldn't have us do anything, thinking something might happen that wasn't going to. I didn't want us to be together without you knowing the truth."

"Would you really do all that for me?"

He nodded, picking up her hand and kissing it. "I would do anything for you."

"But Richard, don't you think you should have told me sooner?" Mary asked, trying to understand.

"Maybe, but it is not the sort of thing you can casually bring up on a date. I didn't tell anyone; I am pretty private about certain things. And the longer we dated, the harder it came to bring it up. I felt like there wasn't really a reason to do so until and unless things got really serious. Probably I should have talked to you about it before I proposed, but this weekend was arranged so last minute, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity with what Aunt Catherine had arranged. I didn't know when I would next have you all to myself for a few hours. I had planned to talk to you about it in a few days, but then you practically jumped me and, well, it wouldn't have been right to, without honesty about things. Please, Mary, please tell me you haven't thought better about marrying me."

Mary finally scooted herself closer to Richard and he put an arm around her. She leaned her head onto his shoulder. "Of course not, Richard. But I feel all mixed up. I was so happy, so deliriously happy, and now I am feeling so many things. I still want to marry you, but right now it is harder to imagine our future from what I had in my head before."

"I am so sorry, my love. I really screwed up what was supposed to be the perfect evening."

"Well you were right to do so," Mary told him, snuggling deeper into his side, "I am glad you told me." She yawned then, and he did too. Richard did not want to leave, but after Mary fell asleep he slithered out of her embrace, arranged her as well as he could on the loveseat, and covered her with a blanket, tucking her in as he did with Lacey.

As Richard turned to go, he pressed a light kiss onto Mary's forehead and whispered to her, "I will make sure you get everything you want and deserve, my darling."


	11. You Aren't Going To Change Your Mom

**Chapter 11: You Aren't Going To Change Your Mom So Try To Enjoy Her As She Is**

The next morning, when Mary awoke (it was still quite early) she felt just awful. It was not merely the crick in her neck from sleeping awkwardly curled up on the loveseat, but a deep mortification about her behavior the previous night. She did not even have the excuse of drinking. Had she really asked Richard to come to bed with her? She felt rather than saw a blush stain her face. She wondered, What does he think of me? She was also deeply embarrassed to recall her discussion about not minding a bun in the oven. Who was she?

When Mary went to the en suite bathroom and began to undress, she examined her bra-clad body in the mirror. It was an ugly bra to be sure, even if it did give her a nice shape. At least it didn't show much more than the one-piece swimsuit he had seen her in before when they took Lacey to swim in the indoor community pool. Had she really sat in just her bra while discussing Richard's vasectomy with him?

Mary wished she could erase all that from her mind and just focus on the proposal and being engaged. It had been wonderful and the ring on her finger had confirmed that it had happened. Mary examined the diamond solitaire. It was a simple arrangement with a modest stone, but Mary loved it and what it meant.

She showered quickly and dressed for church (the emailed itinerary of Lady Catherine had been quite specific that she expected everyone to attend the Episcopal church with her and it did not surprise Mary for one minute that someone like Lady Catherine would attend a "high" church). As she was pulling her dress over her head, she heard a text message come in. She decided to ignore it for now and just finish getting ready. She took comfort in the modest neckline of a dress that she would have worn in her own church to play the piano, but as she examined her reflection in the mirror she wondered what Richard and the rest of the guests would think of it and her.

She imagine her mother shaking her head at her and saying, "Mary, why did you bring that dowdy dress with you? You should show a bit more skin like Lydia did; military men like women who look like women after having to hang out so long with those girl soldiers. You are just impossible when it comes to attracting a man. Now that you've caught the general, you've got to keep him interested. He certainly has an eye for the lookers, that ex of his is a leggy model type. Please tell me that you are at least planning to wear some makeup."

Mary had a sudden desire to flee to her own church, to hide behind the piano and in the familiar rituals that she felt comforted in, where she was just the accompanist and the piano teacher, who everyone was polite to but whom no one thought about for very long. There was a comfortable anonymity in that role.

It was only then that Mary wondered how her replacement was feeling in being expected to play today. Mary had obtained a last minute replacement in one of her advanced students, a high schooler that attended the same church, and Nicole was likely to be nervous as she always underestimated her own skill.

Mary entered the password into her very basic smart phone, noted the time, 7:33 am, ignored the little number that showed her unread text messages, and popped off a quick message to Nicole. _You will do great today. I have faith in you._

Then she opened up her inbox and noted the bolded unread messages from Richard, Lady Catherine, Georgiana and Elizabeth. The oldest one was from Elizabeth at 1:16 am, so Mary started with that one.

_So, little sis, do you have any big news to announce? I heard when you and Richard came in. I was so tempted to spill all I knew yesterday as Richard was asking me for advice on how to do things right. Dying to know how it all went! He is a keeper for sure._

Mary didn't know how she wanted to respond to that one, so she made no reply and went onto the next one. She was curious as to what Georgiana could be texting her about. Her message was dated 1:34 am.

_I'm hoping everything went well and that soon I will get to call you cuz! It is all too romantic. Oh, btw, I am trying to get everyone to contribute to a card I am hoping to get the kids and adults to craft for Aunt Catherine. She's been so kind to us all to host this weekend and today will be a hard day for her. Please stop by the nursery playroom before breakfast if you can._

Mary ignored that one as well. She scrolled to the next one, which had come in at 6:30 am.

_Reminder, there will be pastries and fruit in the dining room starting at 7. Everyone must be ready to leave for church services by 9:15. I will be instructing my staff to rouse you all by 8:30 if you have not made an appearance by then. Staff is available to press clothes or help with hair and makeup. We will be having a Mother's Day Brunch after church at about 11:30. This will conclude the formal schedule of events for the weekend but you are all welcome to stay as long as you would like today, but if anyone wants to stay for dinner at 6:30 please inform me by 3:00 so that the cook will know how much food to prepare. There will be snacks and drinks available to take with you on your ride home._

Fortunately that one did not seem to anticipate that any reply would be needed and as Mary had no idea about dinner without asking Richard what his plans were, she had no reply to make.

Finally, she braved opening the messages from Richard and saw that there were four of them.

7:19 am.

_Mary are you up? I want to tell everyone today how you've consented to be my bride, but I don't want to do that if you aren't ready for that now or don't want to be a spectacle. I know you aren't all that comfortable being in the limelight. I'll understand if you don't want to wear your ring today; perhaps it is a bit of an odd announcement for Mother's Day. _

7:22 am.

_I suppose I should warn you that your sister, her husband and Georgiana were all giving me advice. I wanted to make everything perfect for you, darling. I hope that isn't too embarrassing for you. Can we meet and talk?_

7:25

_Mary, usually you are up by now. Probably you are showering, but I am starting to worry that with everything that happened last night you might be having second thoughts about us. I know I am being silly. I will understand if you just need more time. I really want to talk to you today before we see everyone else. Can we meet somewhere? I love you!_

Mary was just about to text a reply when another text came in from Richard.

Now.

_Sweetheart, please call or text me. Just tell me that you are okay._

Instead of texting, Mary hit the phone icon. She didn't even hear a ring on her end before Richard was answering, "Hello, Mary, is everything okay?"

"Yes, things are fine, you don't need to worry." Mary's voice sounded odd to herself and she began to wonder even as she said the words, Was everything truly fine? Clearly Richard was afraid of losing her. Did he really want another child or was he just giving himself over to what he thought she wanted.

"Can we meet and talk? Maybe out by the rose garden? It is nice and sunny."

"Give me fifteen minutes," Mary responded, even though she had little she needed to do. Perhaps she would put on a bit of makeup, but that never took her more than five minutes as she was always quite minimal with what she did. Fixing her hair could take more time than that, though.

"Okay, I'll be there before then. I love you, Mary."

"Okay, see you soon." Mary hung up, wondering why she had chickened out and not said "I love you, too," back to him.

She did go ahead and put on a bit of makeup, but only lip balm on her lips. She combed her hair and put it back into a ponytail. As she did so, she noted the few white hairs that now were interspersed with her darker locks. She noticed that her bangs were getting too long. She heard her mother's voice in her head again, "Mary, why do you insist on pulling your hair back like you are some teenager? You need a more sophisticated look, and how about some highlights? Why can't you put more effort into your appearance. I know you say it shouldn't matter, but everyone prefers being around people they find more attractive and Mary, well, you need to work a little harder at it than the rest of your sisters."

Mary tried to ignore her inner mother's voice. She agreed with her mother that it was not the most flattering hairstyle, but it kept her hair out of her face and kept her looking tidy and from getting tangles. She told herself, Richard doesn't care, he asked me to marry him when I was looking like this. Of course a niggling voice in her head said, But it was after he saw you looking your best.

She tried to focus her mind back on the problem she should be thinking about. Did Richard really want another child or was he being like . . . Oh no, maybe he was being like Tom Selleck's character of Richard on the show _Friends_! She could see that part of the series play in her mind, the gist of it anyway, even if she didn't remember the exact words or the setting. It was when Richard was dating Monica (who was half his age) and they ended up breaking up because he did not want more children, his children from his marriage being grown, and she wanted kids. Mary tried to let that conversation, which she had seen way too many times, play in her head. The character Richard kept saying again, "If I have to" about having children and finally Monica said something to the effect of "I want kids but I don't want them with someone who doesn't want to have them too, and I would let you do it if you didn't say 'If I have to' about a million times" and then of course they broke up.

Mary felt her dreams recede further away. Her Richard was a really good guy, too. His comment about his age compared to the other fathers in Lacey's class struck a chord in her. She knew even if she could have a baby right away that she would be one of those moms who looked old enough to be the grandma, and Richard was almost ten years older than her. Mary wondered to herself if she could be content to just be with Richard, to not be Monica, to not need the opportunity to have children more than the chance to be with a really great guy. Would Monica have acted the same way if she was older and closer in age to her Richard. Mary asked herself, could she give up on having a chance at a child? She pretty much had, before she met and started dating Richard. Would it be so hard to go back to that place again, only this time she would have the great guy and the winsome step-child, in addition to all of her students to pour her love into?

Mary resolved that she needed to frankly talk to Richard about the matter. She decided she was like Monica in that she didn't want to have a baby with a man that didn't want one, too. She said to herself, her voice sounding odd to hear own ears, "He must really love me a lot."

It would be disappointing to be sure if they talked and he was only wanting to make her happy. She thought of how odd it would be to be with a man, with no condoms or pill, and to know that nothing they did could ever lead to a baby. There was no "letting nature take its course" or "let's just see what happens" as nothing ever would as he was shooting blanks.

Mary glanced at her phone again. 7:55 am. It was time to go.

She found Richard pacing, his hair a bit disheveled, as if he'd been running his hands through it, a gesture that she had recognized right away in their dating as one that he shared with her sister's husband. He paused in his pacing and looked toward her as she opened one of the french doors. She was struck by how handsome he was to her, though his appearance was nothing remarkable and certainly objectively not on par with his cousin's though of course Mary knew that she was nothing to any of her sisters. But he was beloved to her, and that made all the difference.

He decisively walked right up to her as she lingered next to the door she had just cut. "Mary, I'm so glad you are here." He leaned forward and gave her a hello kiss as he had so many times before, but her lips stayed passive in that smack. Then he was lightly holding her hand and leading her into the rose garden. Mary was struck by how nice the roses smelled. Around where she lived many people had those Knockout roses as they were much easier to cultivate, but they did not have much scent to them and were not nearly as pretty on close inspection. Of course it did not surprise her that Lady Catherine would have the real thing that was obviously tended by a master gardener.

They wandered a little farther and Mary had the distinct impression that Richard was trying to get her well away from the house where no one would stumble upon them. As they walked they naturally drew closer to one another and as they did, the tension left Richard. Mary was enjoying how everything now seemed as it should, though she was a bit distracted because she was regretting the fact that she was already dressed for church as her sandals were getting wet in the morning dew and were not really designed for long strolls. Richard was perhaps dressed more reasonably in his running shorts and shirt. She envied him his sneakers.

They rounded another corner in the rose garden and Mary saw another person in front of them. She only saw the person's backside and had the impression that it was a woman, more from the enormous and somewhat ridiculous sun hat that shaded the woman's head, than from her faded coveralls. She heard little snip, snip sounds and saw that the woman's sheers were harvesting some roses, which she was placing in a basket hanging off her left arm. Mary simply wondered if this was the gardener or some servant working on a flower arrangement.

As they got closer, it was Richard who made the identification. "Good morning Aunt Catherine."

She turned, surprise evident on her face. "Why Richard, what a pleasant surprise." She glanced at Mary a little dismissively (at least that was the impression Mary had as the great lady's eyes swept up and down on Mary's ensemble) and Mary felt the sudden impulse to hide her ring, quickly wrapping her left hand in her skirt.

It turned out that she had not been quite quick enough as Lady Catherine commented, "I see you have picked a new bride, nephew. I am sure she will be an improvement over that Caroline." Lady Catherine wrinkled her lips in disgust.

Mary didn't know if Lady Catherine's expression was about her or Caroline. She hoped it was the latter but feared it was the former.

"I . . ." Richard turned to look at her, "we . . . are not sure when we want to start telling people."

"Well, they won't hear it from me. Well go on and enjoy your stroll. Oh to be young and in love once more."

Mary and Richard exchanged a glance and Mary felt as if she knew exactly what Richard was saying with his eyes: She is calling us young? Well I suppose to her just about anyone else is young.

Lady Catherine continued, "You had better at least tell Lacey that she's going to get a new Mommy."

Mary spoke up then, "I have no intention of replacing Lacey's mother; she has a mother."

Lady Catherine looked at Mary intently, "Mark my words, Miss Bennet, and don't you forget them. Caroline Bingley may have birthed that child, but she is no true mother to her. Mothers put their children first; they sacrifice for them. That woman has not known any true sacrifice beyond those nine months she was pregnant. From everything I have heard from my brother and his wife, and from you, too, Richard, from what you do not say, she treats Lacey as more like a living doll to be played with when she has a desire, when it fits in with her idea of what she feels like doing, rather than as a flesh and blood child with daily needs. Mary Bennet, if you are anything like your sister Elizabeth, you will earn the place of mother in that child's heart whether she ever calls you mother. Being a mother is not about birthing them, but about raising them, being there for them when they need you, and especially when they think they don't need you. Yes, if you aren't already mother in that child's heart you will be soon enough. You'll be a mother whether you have your own with Richard or not." Lady Catherine gave a decisive nod and the brim of her overly large hat flopped a little as if it were nodding, too.

Mary looked at Richard with slightly wide eyes and he gave her a half smile that said: There is no use arguing with her (and maybe also, she is right). Then instead of addressing the matter, he merely said, "We will see you for church, Aunt Catherine."

They walked on for a bit until they were well away from Lady Catherine. It was peaceful and bright and it was very pleasant to be walking hand in hand. Mary did not want to spoil it with words. Finally, though, it was Richard who broke the silence. "She is right."

Before Mary could inquire as to what, he added, "We should tell Lacey at least. You know, Lacey gave me permission. I believe her exact words were something like, 'You mean we get to keep her?'"

Mary imagined seeing Lacey saying those words and she teared up a bit. She felt very happy, the happy of the night before. "Well, then let's go tell her, before we tell everyone else."

"Are you really ready; are you sure?" Richard looked a little vulnerable then. "I know I messed up not talking to you about it earlier; I am sorry."

"Yes, Richard, I am sure. That is stuff we can sort out later. Whatever we decide, well, I'm not letting you back out now." Mary gave him a slightly mischievous half smile and a raised eyebrow and for a minute Richard was reminded of her sister Elizabeth, but then the moment was gone.

"Do you have your phone on you?" Richard asked.

Mary was confused, but she pulled it out of her pocket to show Richard that she had it (the fact that this dress had pockets was one of the things that Mary liked about it, even if it was slightly old fashioned with its full skirt which camouflaged the pockets). Surely Lacey did not have a phone and even if she did, Mary could not imagine that this would be the best way to tell her.

"Do you think your mother is up? I have a feeling Mrs. Bennet would never let you or me forget it, if you don't call and tell her first."

"Oh, I see you are angling to be her favorite son-in-law," Mary said, "I warn you, though, you might not like that much attention."

Richard smirked, "Just call her already, and tell her it was my idea."

Mary hit the phone icon beside the "Mom" listing. After three rings her mother said, "Hello Mary, why are you calling so early . . . " Mary hit the speaker phone icon and Fanny Bennet's voice filled all of the outdoors, "Did Richard propose?"

"Mom!" Mary tried to sound cross, "Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Well, I know that one of these days its going to be true."

Richard put a finger up in front of his lips signaling Mary to be silent. He mouthed, "Let me have this one."

Mary nodded her agreement.

"Mrs. Bennet, last night your daughter Mary made me the happiest of men when she agreed to be my wife."

"Mary, it is true?! This better not be a joke or you will be breaking your mother's heart." Mrs. Bennet's voice boomed even louder.

"Yes, Mom, we are engaged."

"Tom! Tom!" They heard the static as her mother put her own phone on speaker mode.

"What is it?" Mary and Richard heard her father grumble. "I am trying to sleep. We have more than an hour before we have to get up. Who called you so early."

"It is Mary and Richard!" She screeched loudly.

"Somebody better be getting married or have died," Mr. Bennet grumbled.

"Mr. Bennet?" Richard addressed Mary's father.

"Yes?"

"I have proposed to your daughter, she has accepted and I would ask for your blessing."

"Oh you did, did you? Mary, are you happy with this arrangement?"

"Very much, Papa."

"Then you both have my blessing. Ah, there will be no getting back to sleep now. And by the way, Richard, given that we are to be family, this Mr. Bennet business has got to stop. You'd better start calling me Tom."

"Oh Mary, who have you told? There are so many people I must call! Everyone will want to know. Have you set a date? Where will you get married? Where do you plan to register?"

"Happy Mother's Day, Mom."

"Oh thanks, Mary, happy Mother's Day to you, too. Now where was I, ah yes, my sister ought to be awake by now and if she isn't she won't mind getting woken up. I really need to go now Mary, everyone will want to know. Text me with a picture of the ring and a picture of the two of you, too. Now please tell me that you got someone to take a picture or better yet video when he proposed."

Mary and Richard exchanged glances that said, She is being really ridiculous, but it is nice that she is happy for us.

"No, we didn't," Mary told her.

"Mary, in this day and age?! Oh well, I've got to run, there are so many calls to make."

Then there was a click and the phone call ended.

"You know that everyone will know in probably the next half-an-hour," Richard told Mary, a half smile on his face. "I wouldn't be surprised if you sister Elizabeth hears about it from your mom instead of you."

"Ah, it is better this way. The word will get out with a lot less effort than it would take me and she will enjoy all the attention much more than me," Mary responded.

"Really, then, it was the perfect Mother's Day present for her, then, wasn't it?"

Mary nodded, "At this rate you really will become her favorite!"


	12. You Are More Than Just A Mother

**Chapter 12: You Are More Than Just A Mother: Embrace All The Facets Of You**

While Richard and Mary were encountering Lady Catherine in their walk in Rosing's formal gardens, Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth were taking their own early morning walk away from Rosings in the general direction of in her cousin William Collins's house. Neither of them had named this as their destination, but both of them decidedly kept walking toward there. As was Fitzwilliam's usual custom, he was almost entirely silent during their walk. While Elizabeth was enjoying the early morning air and the blue sky (she had no need for conversation as she was equally comfortable walking alone), Fitzwilliam was mostly enjoying his wife's light and pleasing form. Elizabeth may not have been as athletic looking as when they had first met, eventually dated, and then finally got married, but Fitzwilliam found the additional curves which had been added to her body after the birth of their children, made her even more alluring.

It was not that Fitzwilliam was adverse to walking and he did like being out of doors (after all he did own a working farm, although that was not how he made a living), but the pace of walking even at the quick clip Elizabeth liked best seemed too slow to him as he was more fond of biking (and the familiar burn of pedaling) or riding a horse. Either of these activities allowed the landscape to pass more quickly. But it was pleasant to spend uninterrupted time with his wife. Both of them had been so busy, that it seemed they were more partners in parenting than a couple these days.

They paused when they reached the Collinses' house. It was far too early to stop by and William Collins was not a particular favorite of either of them, though Elizabeth maintained some ties with his wife Charlotte. Instead, of venturing toward the front door, they walked around the house and paused behind it, in view of the sunroom where Fitzwilliam had asked Elizabeth to go out on a date and been soundly rejected. Both of them remained silent for a time, remembering.

"I can't believe I was such an arrogant jackass," Fitzwilliam commented.

"You may have been an arrogant jackass in thinking I had just been waiting for months for you to ask me out, but even when I was telling you that you were the last man on Earth that I would ever date, I remember thinking that you were too damn attractive and it wasn't fair. I remember thinking that if William Collins looked like you and had the personality of your cousin Richard, I would have welcomed his devotion and jumped at the chance to date him, even though he is my third cousin."

"I guess I am lucky you didn't fall for him."

"There was nothing about William that could tempt me. He is the biggest suck-up and so boring. I still don't understand after all these years why Charlotte began dating him and then married him. The only thing I can figure is that he bothered to ask her, when most everyone else always ever saw her as friend material."

"You know, I believed during those times when I was spending time with Charles and your sister and you were also tagged along, that you were practically begging me to notice you and ask you out."

"Willie, you are misremembering everything! What I remember is that when Charlie and Jane were trying to go out on dates, you kept inviting yourself along, and then Caroline would want to come too and Charlie was too kind to tell you both that he just wanted time alone with Jane. After that happened a couple of times, Jane started asking me to come, too, so I could maybe get the two of you to leave them alone. I am sure that Caroline would have been happy enough to distract you, but your approach to getting away from her, was to stick to Charlie like you were conjoined twins. It was my job to try to let them have some time to themselves, so I always tried to bring up some hot-button political topic or something that would raise your hackles enough that you might forget about them."

"And to think I thought we were practically dating and that Charles and Jane were just friends." Fitzwilliam shook his head in a gesture of negation. "I loved our debates. When you get passionate about something, there is a special sparkle in your eyes which just draws me in. It seems like I was practically misreading everything in those days."

"If you thought there was nothing really going on with Charlie and Jane, it is because Jane has never been into PDAs. Do you know that Jane is still that way? When I am in the room, she will turn her cheek toward Charlie rather than let him kiss her on the lips in front of me."

"Well, you distracted me so well that I never really saw what was between them," Fitzwilliam smiled a little bit then, but his eyes had a hint of sadness when he recalled how badly he had blown it, "but it is not like I was the only one who misread people back then."

"That's true," Elizabeth admitted, "boy was I wrong about George Wickham. To think that I thought he liked me, when he was the whole time hooking up with first Mary King and then Lydia behind my back. What an asshole! A great, giant, stinking, putrid, pustular asshole. And of course I misjudged you, too, very badly in fact."

"But I could have handled things so much better. What if I had said," here he picked up her hand and gave it a squeeze, and then looked earnestly into her eyes: "Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, somehow in all that time that I spent with you, Charles and Jane, I developed feelings for you. I would really like to take you on a proper date and see if we might have something. Please say you will give me a chance?"

"Well, I am pretty sure I would have said, 'No,' but if you had looked at me like that . . . well I would have been tempted but ultimately it probably wouldn't have made any difference except that I would have been nicer to you about it. I still thought you broke up Jane and Charlie for spite and that you had been mean to your old foster brother George. I didn't realize that the apple didn't fall far from the tree and he was just as much of a scumbag as his druggie mother, but without the addiction. What a creep he was pursuing your sister after growing up in the same home as her for a few years! Ugh!"

"I still can't believe that your parents gave their permission for him to marry your sister Lydia when she was only sixteen and he had already gotten her pregnant. What were they thinking? They could have gotten him charged with statutory rape."

"Yeah, but you are forgetting that for some reason she wanted to marry him and my mother kept carrying on to my father about how bad it is for children to be born bastards."

"I still think she would have been better off being a single mother, and anyway it wouldn't have come to that. She had a second chance when the baby died."

"That's true, but Lydia is so stubborn in insisting on staying with him. You were kind to arrange for him to be offered good training in the military and then to pay for their off base housing after he finished basic training when there were doubtless better candidates for helicopter repair technician."

Fitzwilliam persisted, "But if you had known the truth about why I did what I did regarding Jane and George, do you think you would have given me a chance if I had asked you out in a more gentlemanly manner?" He looked at her very earnestly.

Elizabeth was not sure she could give him a real answer. Those were too many changes and that had not been what had happened. But Fitzwilliam was looking so sad, as if forgetting the many years of happiness they had together, so she decided to give him the answer he clearly craved. "Of course I would have given you a shot with me."

Fitzwilliam cleared his throat and picked up her hand once again. Again he looked at her most earnestly. "Dearest Elizabeth, it has been some time that I have found you the most lovely of all of my acquaintances. But the more I have gotten to know you, the more I have found you incredibly captivating. You are so intelligent, witty and have such a great sense of humor. You are knowledgeable and can debate on almost every topic. I probably shouldn't confess as much at such a time, but I have developed quite strong feelings for you. I think about you ever day and as forward as this is, you are the only woman I imagine, when I think of my future and about being married some day. I would really like to take you on a proper date, because you deserve to be spoiled with every good thing. Please, you have half captured my heart already though we are not even exactly friends yet. Will you not give me an opportunity to show you how much you mean to me? In all seriousness, I dearly want to win your heart. Please say you will go out to dinner with me tonight or at another day of your choosing."

"No, I could not have turned that down, though you might have scared me off with all that talk about our imagined future marriage."

"But that's exactly how I felt." He continued to look at her most earnestly.

"Come here, Willie, and you shall have my most romantic if unrealistic answer of my reply to such an address." Elizabeth then cleared her throat. "Fitzwilliam, I will not pretend that my present feelings are as strong as your own, but I am most willing to give you a chance."

"Oh, Elizabeth, you have made me the happiest of men."

They looked intensely in each other's eyes and neither of them could have said who closed the distance between them (likely it was both of them). Then they were kissing, gently at first and then they were wrapped tightly around the other, mouths delving deeply. If they had been alone, in private, undoubtedly things would have gone much further, but eventually Fitzwilliam recollected that if the Collinses got up, they might see them there, so finally it was him that ended the kiss.

"I think we ought to go back to Rosings," he said, gently stroking the edge of her face.

"Yes," Elizabeth added, "I should check and make sure the children are up."

They walked back to Rosings hand in hand, each moved by their little role playing.

When Elizabeth checked on the children, she found that they were up and dressed appropriately (the temporary nannies were certainly on task). Then she hurried back to their room's _en suite_ to jump in the shower. Fitzwilliam wasn't there and she was a bit disappointed by this, but decided that perhaps he had decided to go down to breakfast and shower later. She had been only in the shower for perhaps three minutes when Fitzwilliam knocked on the bathroom door and then immediately opened the door and entered the bathroom. It was already quite steamy in there, as Elizabeth liked her showers quite warm.

"May I join you?" he asked.

Had Elizabeth been asked, she would have said she found her husband's excessive formality endearing.

They didn't normally shower together, but then they were usually so busy on weekends that there was hardly time, and during the week between their jobs and getting the kids ready to go to school each day, there was next to no opportunity.

"Sure, Elizabeth told him. As he undressed she asked, "Come to scrub my back, hoping to save water by getting clean yourself, or wishing to admire the view?"

"All of the above, though I would rather scrub your front than back, truth be told." His tone had a slightly naughty lilt that Elizabeth had become well familiar with over the years. It had been a revelation when she understood that tone was not borne from a harsh wish to criticize but from admiration.

"I know," she said smiling, "but first I am going to put you to work. I know I just got a spa pampering, but I'd love it if you washed my hair."

Elizabeth watched as he opened the shower door and entered. After he closed the door she handed him the shampoo bottle and watched him pour a generous amount in his hand. If she was also admiring her view, well wasn't that to be expected? Her Willie kept himself in shape, and had been gifted with a nice shape to begin with, tall and broad, dark wavy hair, sensual lips. She rubbed her lips together, wanting very much to kiss him instead of continuing her shower, but then forced herself to turn her back on him so he could wash her hair. Now the water was beating down on some of her front but not on her face or hair.

Suddenly, his large strong hands were threaded through her hair, scrubbing, massaging.

"Ummmm," she purred. The heat and the pampering felt marvelous.

He scrubbed for a couple of minutes in silence and then removed his hands. As he did, Fitzwilliam said, "You look so good, Lizzy." Then she felt him kissing the back of her neck. As he leaned into her a bit, she felt a familiar poke against her backside.

Yes he was definitely enjoying being in the shower with her! Elizabeth had a feeling she might need a second shower this morning if things proceeded the way he seemed to want (and the way she hungered for now, too).

Elizabeth flipped herself around to let the water sluice through her hair and wash the shampoo away. If it had the added advantage of bringing more of her in contact with her beloved, well that was just a lucky side effect, wasn't it?

As Elizabeth leaned her head back and closed her eyes, she heard the "burp" of another bottle being squeezed. The minty scent told her he had just squeezed out some of her body wash. She anticipated and then felt Willie following up on his desire to wash her front side, all of her front side. The slick water pouring down both her front and back made his touch feel different. She was certainly enjoying his efforts though she did not reciprocate them as she was busy using her hands to make sure she got every bit of shampoo out of her hair.

Elizabeth opened her eyes when his touch withdrew. "No more body wash for now Willie," she told him as she saw him reaching for the bottle again. She took a couple of steps forward, "I need the conditioner now."

She saw him grab the bottle and turned herself around once again for his ministrations. This time as he ran his hands through her hair, he also rubbed himself against her. Elizabeth felt her own desire grow. She backed them away from the water so that she could flip herself without getting her hair wet. The conditioner had to sit for a couple of minutes.

When she was facing him again, all semblance of trying to get clean was gone as they kissed and ran their wet hands all over each other. They both enjoyed the feeling of their slick, wet skin, warmed by the water and steam. Elizabeth had a few thoughts about how the act might take place in the shower, but given their height disparity and how wet everything was, they had never managed to make it work. It wasn't like in a romance novel or a movie in real life. Even if they could get the angle right, likely they would slip and hurt themselves.

Elizabeth started to go with Fitzwilliam after he grabbed and tugged lightly on her hand, but then stopped. "Wait, Willie, I need to rinse the conditioner off still." Elizabeth backed herself under the shower head again. Fitzwilliam had a bemused look on his face, realizing she supposed that of course she had to rinse her hair and then turn off the shower.

As Elizabeth rinsed, she noticed that Fitzwilliam had continued to make his way out of the shower. Had he been teasing her?

"Just where do you think you are going? You aren't planning on leaving me all hot and bothered, are you?"

Fitzwilliam poked his head back in the shower. "Of course not, but I thought I should get dry and then help you get dry, too."

A minute later when Elizabeth stepped out of the shower, she admiringly took in the sight of her husband with a long fluffy towel wrapped around his hips. She only regretted that the mirror was too steamed up to admire his backside, also.

Fitzwilliam was equally admiring. Rather than simply holding out the towel to Elizabeth or wrapping it around her, he said, "Let me serve you," and after she nodded he dried her, rubbing every inch of her body in a painstakingly slow process that had Elizabeth breathing a bit harder with desire. As he hadn't wrapped a towel around her head, her hair kept dripping, forming little wet rivulets that he then had to dry again. Of course that was by design on his part.

Finally Elizabeth couldn't stand it anymore. "Give me that!" She took the towel, bent over and wrapped her hair up, otherwise standing naked before him. "I know how I really want you to serve me!"

"Oh really?" He waited for her to actually voice what she wanted even though Elizabeth knew he wanted it, too.

Elizabeth decided she would make him say it. She stepped towards him and rubbed her hands over his chest and through his chest hair, noting there were a few white hairs now. She leaned into him and as he embraced her, she snatched his towel away and ran a hand over his newly freed parts. He groaned and then said, "Come to bed Lizzy!"

They enjoyed themselves very thoroughly, for once completely heedless of the time. There was an intensity to their lovemaking as they each remembered how they had gotten a second chance to be together all of those years ago. However, afterwards, they were roused from the blissful light slumber they had succumbed to when they heard three raps upon the door.

"What is it?" Fitzwilliam asked grumpily.

"Excuse the interruption, this is Molly. Lady Catherine asked me to summon you for breakfast at 8:30 per the itinerary."

"Okay, we will be there in a few minutes," he told her.

Elizabeth groaned, glanced at the clock and then, suddenly wide awake, dashed for the shower once again. After minimal bathing she struggled to comb through the tangles that had formed in her curly hair. While she was busy working them out, Fitzwilliam entered and then got in the shower.

Elizabeth couldn't help but ask, "Do you want me to come wash your back?"

"I would love it," he replied and then regretfully added, "but we don't really have more time. I have a feeling that if we are too tardy Aunt Catherine might have one of her servants unlock our bedroom door and physically fetch us."

Later that morning as Elizabeth was leaned up again Fitzwilliam in the pew, enjoying the fact that her younger children were in children's church and the older ones and their cousins were sitting separately and being supervised by someone else, something suddenly occurred to her. "Willie!" She whispered urgently in his ear. "We didn't remember to . . ." she was suddenly self conscious about saying something that someone else might over hear. But from the look he gave her, Elizabeth could tell he understood."

Fitzwilliam shook his head in negation, raised his eyebrows and gave a half shrug. He whispered back to her, "Sorry, I really wasn't thinking about it. I didn't mean to . . . but really, what are the chances?"

Elizabeth tried to remember when she'd had her last period. She had liked the pill for the regularity it had given her and at her age her periods were now even more all over the place without it. She wasn't sure when she'd had her last period or where she might be in her cycle. "I just don't know," she whispered back. There was no paying attention to any of the sermon after that.

Elizabeth continued to be distracted through brunch, even though she was excited to hear all the details of Richard's proposal to Mary (even if she had heard of the actual engagement from her mother, who had texted her repeatedly during church (fortunately the first text had come in during a song, prompting Elizabeth to switch her phone to silent mode). She was happy for Mary and Richard, truly she was, but she felt a little panic as she calculated if a baby should somehow come of their tryst this morning, how old both she and Willie would be before said child graduated from high school.

She felt more panic in remembering that she no longer had any of her maternity clothes or furniture, toys or supplies that they had used with the other children, giving them away as Cole grew too old to use them. Then she reminded herself that Willie and she had plenty of money if everything had to be bought anew. Sometimes growing up with more modest needs resulted in her forgetting that money really wasn't an issue.

After lunch, Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth began to make their excuses. They had agreed to leave right afterwards as they had a long drive in front of them, though the kids grumbled about leaving so soon.

Lady Catherine told them, "You must visit again soon," and then added to Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth, "you know you are welcome anytime. You are family."

"Thank you, Lady Catherine," Elizabeth said, "we have certainly enjoyed our weekend here. It was lovely."

"I am glad." Lady Catherine's eyes lingered on Elizabeth and then she seemed to come to some sort of a decision. "As we are family and all, probably you should start calling me Aunt Catherine." She looked around at the rest of her family around the table. "That goes for you, too, Steven. But Mary, I think we will wait to include you in this until after the wedding."

Georgiana then asked Mary and Richard, "So, have you talked about dates?"

"Not really," Richard responded.

"But I would like it to be soon," Mary added.

"You would?" Richard asked, focusing entirely on Mary.

She nodded and blushed a little, remembering how she had nearly dragged him to her bed. If they really were going to try to wait on that, a short engagement seemed in order.

Later that afternoon, Lady Catherine watched from her window as the final vehicle, the silver minivan bearing Georgiana and her family, pulled away. No one had opted to stay for dinner. She had not expected them to stay; everyone had their own lives waiting and many had work on Monday. Still, she had hoped someone would delay leaving. She already felt lonely.

For a while Rosings had been filled with sound and color. Anywhere Catherine had ventured in her home, she was likely to see one of her guests. Compared to her servants in their dark matching uniforms whom she trained to very exacting standards to be almost invisible, her guests each had a distinctive walk, way of dressing and freely talked to each other. She had dearly enjoyed the laughter and shouting of the children. The ball itself with the swirling dresses of the women, the clicking of shoes and the talking muffled by the band, was as soothing to her as a sound machine might be to another at night.

But then, anytime she had guests there was an additional spice to her life at Rosings. It was different though, in that these people were family and they had that connection which bound them together even if she might not have been a person that they otherwise would have spent time with.

In each of Catherine's blood relations she could see shades of others that were gone. They were a constant reminder of others who were lost. Richard bore a close resemblance to her brother (his father) and her brother looked very much like their father. Though her father had been gone for a few years now, Catherine did not have the same sorrow about his passing as she did about her children and sister. He had lived a good long life, had exceeded his expectations for how long he would live in fact, and had an easy death from what she understood, apparently dying in his sleep. Seeing Richard and the little expressions his face shared with her brother and father was always pleasant. Even if she missed her father, it was more of a wistful longing than a stabbing regret that he was gone.

Fitzwilliam looked very much like his father and not her sister, and shared his father's temperament as well, but oddly enough apparently his father and he shared a similar taste in the personality they admired in a woman. Though her sister Anne and Elizabeth could not be more different in physical characteristics, it was Elizabeth's personality that reminded Catherine of her sister, though occasionally Fitzwilliam would give a half smile that was something he shared with his mother.

Of all of them, Georgiana's coloring and physical presence closely resembled her mother. Of course she was not an exact match for her mother, in personality she had more of the reserve of her father. When Catherine's sister had first died, Catherine had made an unspoken agreement with herself that she would be there for Georgiana in each situation in which she needed a mother's care. It was what she owed her sister.

Catherine loved Georgiana in her own right, but it was frustrating that over the years often when she was trying her best to be present for her niece, that she could sense Georgiana drawing away. Then, after Anne died, Catherine began to see shades of her own daughter in her niece Georgiana where she had not before.

In doing things for Georgiana, Catherine was serving the memory of her daughter Anne. They had few physical commonalities as her Anne took after her father, but there was something in Georgiana's smile (which was different from Fitzwilliam's) which reminded her of her daughter Anne's smile. Yet it was a bit of a bitter pill each time Georgiana experienced a milestone that Anne had missed.

First it was in marrying. While Anne had still be alive, Georgiana had married and in doing so had left her older cousin behind. This more than anything was behind Catherine discouraging the marriage.

Then it was in having children. At the time that Georgiana's first boy arrived, Catherine had not completely despaired of her daughter getting to live a full life. While Anne still lived, there was always a spark of hope in Catherine, even as the diagnoses and outlook for her continued to worse by all objective means. Yet, once again, in seeing the reality of Georgiana becoming a mother, Anne was once again left behind. And now there was no more hope, Anne was long dead and gone.

For not the first time, Catherine felt the unfairness of it all. Usually she felt the unfairness most acutely for her son and daughter. They ought to have had what her nephews and nieces had. But today, on Mother's Day, Catherine let herself mourn for her own loss, not only of her children, but in what their loss meant to her, how she had lost all connection to the future as without children there could be no grandchildren.

But Catherine would not let herself wallow. She reminded herself that she still had her nieces and nephews. Georgiana, especially, seemed to be reaching out to her. Catherine just knew that the kind card in which each person wrote about why Catherine was special or his or her appreciation for the weekend, had been organized by Georgiana.

Georgiana had even gone so far as to write in the card that Catherine might wish to spend her next Mother's Day with Georgiana's family. Catherine appreciated the sentiment, but she was not sure that Georgiana would still feel that way when the time come and tried to resolve to herself not to be disappointed if in the end things did not work out for her to garner an invitation.


	13. There Is Never An Ideal Time

_We are going to shift gears to the third Mother's Day weekend of our story with plenty of flashbacks to show us all that has occurred in the previous year. I am anticipating only about two chapters after this one and then maybe an epilogue before being done, but I have been known to be very wrong on how long my stories will be. If you all recall, I thought this one would only be a three-shot._

_I've been remiss in publicly thanking all my reviewers where you all can see it since Chapter 4 __(the last time I thanked everyone)__, so here's my shout-out and big thank you to: IsAndia, RegencyLover, Sooty85, Jansfamily4, ANovick, HarnGin, RegencyGirl17, Oddybobo, Guest(s), nanciellen, DW.618, Lauramari, , Lisa, Ayla, krimpetgirl and liysyl. As everyone knows who is logged in and reviews, I always send PMs to my reviewers. Sometimes it might just be a simple thank you and other times it will be of more substance and may even tell you what is coming up or some ideas I have been kicking around. So if you don't have a FF account (I was an anonymous reader on here for a long time before I joined so I do get it), consider getting one so you can hear from me._

_One final and self-indulgent note: __I can hardly believe it but on June 16, 2018, was when I first started posting on FF. What a fabulous year it has been for me. My plan was only to see if I could write one story and here I am now with six stories and hoping to publish on Amazon in the next year. I absolutely want to credit all the terrific fans who have kept me going; there are times when I haven't known what to write next, but because I knew there were living breathing people out there waiting for me to post what came next, I have always worked through it for you. I don't believe in writer's block, only writer's fear (the fear that when you have a thought after a while which might work, isn't good enough) but you just have to go ahead and put it down and go from there; revising is always an option after all._

**Chapter 13: There Is Never An Ideal Time To Become A Mother  
**

The Friday before Mother's Day as Mary waited in her gynecologist's office for her annual exam, she had plenty of time to read the out-of-date magazines every doctor's office seems to have and to reflect on the past year as her ob/gyn was busy with a laboring mother. The receptionist had offered to reschedule Mary's appointment but she declined, having already rescheduled once to deal with CB's needs.

When Mary finished reading an article in a parenting magazine about the challenges and rewards of raising special needs children, she turned to another article about preparing children to be part of a blended family after the excitement of the wedding wore off. This put her in mind of how Lacey had reacted when Richard and Mary told her the good news.

Lacey squealed and spun around while Richard and Mary exchanged bemused looks. "Oh, Mary, I am so glad." Lacey flew into Mary's arms then and gave her a tight hug before breaking loose again and then leaping into Richard's arms. It was a good thing that Richard was sturdy!

Without letting go of Richard, Lacey leaned back and asked, while her head was half upside-down, "You'll stay being nice to my daddy and me even after the wedding, won't you, Mary?"

Of course Mary was quick to reassure her that she would. Then Richard had commented, "I think Lacey has seen too many Disney movies with wicked step-mothers."

"They pretend to be nice and then aren't," Lacey confirmed.

"Mary actually is nice, though," Richard told her, "everybody says so. And remember, she is cousin Elizabeth's sister and Elizabeth is nice, isn't she."

Lacey nodded, straightening herself up and then wiggling to get down. Once she was down she asked, a little more sedately, "Do I get to be in your wedding, too?"

"Of course," Mary told her, "you get to be the flower girl. It is a really important job. You are the last one down the aisle before me."

The next question Lacey asked had been most unexpected, "After when you get married, will you sleep in my room, Daddy's room or the guest room?"

Richard answered that one, "Mary will be sharing a room with me; that's what married people do."

Mary added, "But if you want, sometime, if it is all right with your daddy, we can have a girls sleep-over."

"I think that is a wonderful idea," Richard told Mary, giving her hand a little squeeze that seemed to say, "thank you for including her."

"Mary, that would be fun. Mommy never wants to have sleep-overs with me."

Richard then added, to Mary's surprise, "I think, though, we should look for a new place that is just right for the three of us. It isn't right to expect Mary to just move in with us."

Mary's wedding to Richard was everything Mary could have dreamed, though of course it had varied quite a lot from what she had first imagined. She had wanted the wedding to be a simple affair, with just immediate family as soon as could be arranged. Mary was all for a quick courthouse wedding, but Richard (and much more loudly her mother) had objected.

Her mother had said, "Mary, this is not the time to make do and be practical. You are marrying a general. There needs to be some pomp and circumstance. Maybe you can have an army band or walk under an archway made of swords. His people are somebodies and if you have too simple of a wedding they will conclude you are a nobody and we can't have that."

Richard had not put it like that, but his response was more persuasive to her. "Mary, this is the only wedding you will ever have, 'cause I am never letting you get away. I want you to have wonderful memories from that day. It doesn't need to be too fussy and fancy, I know you wouldn't like that, but it should be something special because you are special and I know everyone wants to celebrate with us."

In the end, they had gotten married on a Friday afternoon, on the patch of land Richard had proposed on (and as there were no bathroom facilities, he had arranged to rent out a neighbor's home for the day so that Mary had a place to dress and the guests had a bathroom if needed, though it certainly wasn't all that convenient), under an arch of flowers, on a raised wooden platform that also held the musicians and the minister.

The Fitzwilliam family string quartet formed of Richard's siblings (with the substitution of Richard's oldest nephew for Richard) played several songs as the guests took their seats. Mary could faintly hear them from the neighbor's house as the window was open. When it was time to escort her to the wedding, Mary's father had surprised her with a horse-drawn carriage which would convey her to the aisle, such as it was, so she wouldn't have to walk too far in her dress. The cue for them to set off in the carriage was the quartet's last song.

Originally when Richard's siblings had proposed that they play it, she had been hesitant, but then when she heard it she had decided it was perfect. It was a version of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing." As Mary sat in the carriage beside her father and the carriage slowly made its way toward Richard and her future, all the emotions of that day when combined with the chorus in her head somehow almost made her cry.

When the carriage pulled up to the end of the aisle, Mary waited inside it as the song ended and then the most beautiful music came forth as Georgiana joined the quartet on a grand piano and together they played Pachelbel's "Canon in D." Mary barely noticed as her attendants (her sisters) made their way down the aisle, because even though he was still far away her eyes were arrested by Richard, looking so very handsome in his tuxedo, making her recall the ball at Lady Catherine's house and then his proposal afterwards. Mary did manage to tear her eyes away from Richard when Richard's mother signaled for Lacey to start walking down the aisle.

Lacey made a detour to where Mary was sitting in the carriage. She looked up at Mary and talked to her in a loud whisper, saying, "Mary, you are like Cinderella arriving for the ball!"

Mary had whispered back, "Thank you Lacey. I am so happy that I am getting to marry my prince. After the wedding you can take a ride in here, too, and be a princess yourself, but first we need to have the wedding and you have an important job to do."

"Oops," Lacey said and promptly turned around and began tossing rose petals. Mary watched bemused as Lacey scampered quickly down the aisle tossing her petals as if to make up for lost time.

Mary really didn't remember the whole wedding that well. Mostly she remembered walking down the aisle on her father's arm, eyes fixed on Richard as she gradually got closer to him. As she walked toward him, she felt happy and peaceful at the same time. He was most beloved to her, the man she was about to marry, the man who was her future. She remembered thinking that the most important thing was that soon she would be at his side, soon they would never be parted again.

It had gotten increasingly hard to leave him and Lacey to go home to her own apartment, now stripped of all but the bare essentials as both their things were being relocated into the house they had bought together (though Mary's share ended up just being a few thousand dollars as it was not as if piano teachers made much money). But they had agreed it was the right thing to wait, to show Lacey how things ought to be done. But finally, now, they would wake up together, go to sleep together, eat around the same table every day.

Mary and Richard read the vows they had written to each other, with Mary barely hearing the words she had written as she could not help but take in Richard's reaction to them. Mary had thought that she might cry, from happiness, during the ceremony. But oddly, or sweetly enough, it was Richard who ended up crying at during her vows. He had said right after she finished (and of course it was not part of the script of what they had planned), "Mary, I love you so much, I know I do not deserve you, or to be this happy."

Though it was not the right time in the ceremony, Mary leaned a little closer to Richard. She forgot about everyone else as she touched his face in a gesture of reassurance. Then he closed the distance and kissed her. It was a soft kiss, which terminated quickly when the minister said, "We haven't gotten to that part yet."

They broke apart, with Mary feeling a blush come over her face, embarrassed by messing up the ceremony but oh so ready for all the necessary words to be said so they could truly be married. And when the minister finally gave them permission, the kiss was perhaps far longer and more lingering than it had any right to be in front of all those people.

They had not stayed at the site for more than twenty minutes after the ceremony (given the bathroom situation). But during the time Lacey and some of the other children had the opportunity to take rides in the carriage and Mary was content to just stand at Richard's size, their hands interlaced.

Afterwards, they became part of a longer caravan, all heading toward Rosings. Lady Catherine had offered them her home for the reception and they had gratefully taken her up on the offer. Mary and Richard rode in a limo that Mrs. Bennet had insisted upon, with Lacey riding with them. They had wanted to spend some special time with her before her mother collected her for the weekend.

The reception itself was largely a blur, but for Mary's first dance with Richard and dance with her father as Richard danced with his mother. Before they danced together again, Richard danced with Lacey and Mary danced with one of her nephews.

Mary, from her seat in the doctor's office, smiled a little and also shook her head in her remembrance of how frustrated she had been when Caroline had not arrived to pick up Lacey as promised at 7pm. If only they had known, but of course it was better that they hadn't, not then. They were due to leave for their honeymoon at 8pm for a simple weekend away in a hotel suite, but 8 rolled around, and then 9 o'clock with no Caroline and she had not responded to any of the increasingly desperate texts Richard had sent.

Richard was annoyed. Mary remembered him angrily pacing and then saying, "This is just like Caroline, to find someone to hook up with when she is supposed to be getting Lacey and not even bothering to tell me."

Of course Richard's sister, mother and even Aunt Catherine had offered to care for Lacey so they could honeymoon, but Lacey's sad and tired face as she scanned the thinning crowd looking for her mother decided them against that. Mary told Richard, "I know we both want a honeymoon, but I think if we leave Lacey with someone else she may feel abandoned. I don't want her to think that our first action after we are married is to value ourselves over her."

"I hate the idea of not having you all to myself, but I think you may be right," Richard admitted, giving a little sigh. "If it were earlier, I would say we should just go to our new house, but by now it is too late to cancel our hotel for tonight without being charged for it and that is a long drive for a sleepy little girl.

Lacey had been quite excited and all of her fretting had evaporated when she found out she was going with them. She kept asking them, "Are we all having a sleepover? Can I stay up as late as I want?" They told her that they could, but Mary could tell from the look in Richard's eyes that he was determined to be with her that night if there was a way to do it.

When they checked in Richard asked if there was any way to get a suite instead of their extra large honeymoon room, but was told that the hotel was all booked up. When he asked for a roll away bed for Lacey, similarly he was told that the hotel was all out, but the desk clerk did hand them extra blankets and pillows. So in the end they ended up getting into the King sized bed together, Mary in her shirt and shorts that she had arrived in before the wedding and Richard in his shorts from before he had changed. He did not get to do anything more intimate with his bride in their bed but to kiss her after Lacey fell asleep between them while a pay-per-view G rated movie droned on in the background. There wasn't even the possibility of having fun in the jet bathtub as it was right there in the room, with the bathroom only having a sink and toilet.

Mary had suggested, "We could be together in the bathroom; there is a lock on the door." Richard had gotten up then and investigated it but sadly reported, "It isn't even big enough to lie down on the floor in there and it smells like antiseptic. I appreciate your willingness, but I can't have our first memories of being together be made in there!"

After Richard finished his investigation, Mary prowled the room, searching for possibilities. When she drew back the curtains she made an important discovery. "Richard, our room has a private deck and it it fully fenced in at about four feet high and we are on the top floor. It is quite dark out there and I can see the stars. I think it just might do.

Mary felt like a naughty girl when she went into the bathroom, put on her lingerie and then placed the fluffy white hotel robe around it, so Lacey would be none the wiser if she suddenly woke up. While Mary was preparing herself, Richard made a little love nest on the deck with the extra blankets and extra pillows. When Mary came out, Richard then took himself into the bathroom and also emerged wearing a robe, but Mary suspected that unlike herself, he did not have anything on under it.

When they were both on the deck together, Richard said, "I really want to be with you, but I want to talk first. I have a wedding present for you."

Mary was confused. Richard was not holding anything in his hands. "Where is it, or what is it?" she asked.

"Do you remember a couple of months back, shortly after we became engaged when I said I was sore from an injury?"

Mary nodded.

"Well it was an injury, but not an accident. You see, it was at that time that I had my reversal done. Now it is still too early to know if it was wholly or partially successful, but I wanted to go into our marriage giving us our best shot at giving you a baby, if that is still what you want. But now that I might not be shooting blanks, you of course need to know that. I've brought condoms with me," he patted the pocket of his robe, "if you now are thinking differently or are not sure this is the time. I know my timing is awful. I had meant to talk to you about this a few days ago, but then Lacey came and interrupted us and with all the wedding planning after that, well we have hardly ever been alone. Maybe we should just go ahead and use the condoms and then you will have the time to think this all fully through."

"Richard," Mary said, looked at him in the dark. It was hard to see much of his expression. "Do you really want another child? The last time we really talked about this, you talked about worrying you were too old to be the kind of father a child deserves."

"I have some little doubts sometimes," Richard admitted, "but I really want to try. I didn't get this operation just on a whim, but we need to both want the same thing and perhaps it is too soon to really think about starting a family."

"No, it is not too early," Mary told him earnestly. "This is just about the most romantic present ever, that you would go through surgery for me, to give us a shot at growing our family."

Mary felt the love she was feeling for Richard swell all the more as she leaned into him and he embraced her. She also found it incredibly sexy, all that he had done for her. And so it was that they spent most of their honeymoon night being together on the deck. Though the deck was still quite hard even with the blankets, neither of them noticed much as they were too busy kissing, embracing, touching, caressing and finally joining together. In the end, they made memories that would carry through with them their whole life. Those moments of bliss would be very important to sustain them in dealing with the aftermath of what they learned about the following morning.

Richard and Mary had dozed a bit on the deck, but both of them woke up when it was still dark because even with the blankets it had grown quite cold. Neither of them really wanted to go back inside and have to resume being proper as Lacey was there. However, they placed their robes back on for warmth and Mary was the first to venture back inside. She glanced at the digital clock and noticed it was about 4:45. Mary went into the bathroom to get dressed again in the clothes she had gone to sleep in. She was just pulling her shirt on when she heard Lacey call, "Daddy, Mary, where are you?"

Mary hurried out of the bathroom and saw Lacey looking around. Lacey relaxed when she saw Mary. "Here I am."

"Where is Daddy?"

"Your daddy is out on the deck. He is checking to see how close it is to sunrise as we wanted to watch the sunrise together out there. Mary poked her head out of the sliding glass door. "Richard, why don't you come back in. The sun won't rise for a while." Then she said more quietly, "Please clean up out here."

"Daddy's phone is beeping." Lacey told her. "I think he got a message. The sound woke me up."

Just then Richard's phone starting ringing. Mary picked it up to bring it to Richard, but then her phone started ringing, too. Mary felt a sudden panic, wondering what was wrong or who could have died that would make someone call them so early in the morning on their honeymoon. Fortunately Richard came in then, so Mary handed him his phone and then ran for her own.

They both heard the same news at about the same time. Caroline had been in a car accident the previous night when she was in -city about an hour away from Rosings. A drunk driver had run a red light and collided with her car. She had been rushed into emergency surgery which had been unsuccessful at stopping her hemorrhaging. She died a few hours later, but her sister Louisa had not been notified until just about an hour ago. She had called her brother Charles and it was he and Jane who called Richard and Mary.

It had been a horrible time for everyone, with Richard alternating between being somewhat relieved that Caroline was gone and then feeling deeply ashamed of himself in knowing how much Lacey was suffering because of it, Lacey feeling to blame because her mother had been driving to get her, and Mary feeling uncertain of how best to help the two of them. Yes, she was glad it happened after they were married, but left uncertain of how to fulfill the role she had been thrust into and then, a few months later, there was the arrival of CB.

From her spot in the waiting room, in seeing the young mothers who had babies and little children with them, how could she help but think of CB? He was with Richard now so that she could go to her appointment.

She quickly texted Richard again: _Still haven't been seen; the receptionist won't even estimate a time when the doctor will be back. Are you still okay with CB?_

Richard responded almost immediately: _We are okay. The physical therapist arrived on time but neither of us are crazy about how the new braces are fitting him. She thinks the wrong size was ordered, but the old ones are really too small to use either. I have a call into the medical supply company so hopefully I will hear something soon, but with the weekend coming up, we are probably delayed at least another week.  
_

Mary felt fretful in reading that and was reminded about another time just a couple of months ago when she'd also been fretful about CB. "Mary, stop fretting," Richard told her. "CB will be fine in the nursery. You will have to leave him in there sooner or later and it has been two weeks since you've played piano for church."

"I am just not sure I am ready. CB is so clingy. He has every reason to be, after all." Mary was wringing her hands.

Richard smirked a little bit then, "I had no idea that you, Mary, would be such an anxious mother; you've never seemed anxious when it comes to Lacey. If you are worried about him being left alone with strangers, I could stay with him in the nursery, I suppose."

"Richard, do be serious. Yes, dads drop off their kids all the time at the nursery, but it is only ever mothers that stay in there (and mostly just the mothers that are nursing little babies). I think the workers might be a little uncomfortable if you invaded their terrain. They'd be worried that you didn't trust them to know what he needs."

"I do trust them," Richard asserted." It is you that doesn't trust them, or maybe you don't trust him to be okay. Remember we had that full meeting to make sure they know how to meet his needs. I think we should just leave him in there. After all, they have our cell numbers and can text us if there is a problem. He will let them know if he needs us. Since he's arrived, you've hardly had anytime to do the things that are most important to you."

"I suppose . . . Where is he?" Mary was suddenly looking around anxiously.

"He is right over there with Lacey," Richard pointed and Mary blew out a deep breath and relaxed when she spotted Lacey pushing CB's stroller which had been beside her only a moment or two ago. "See, Lacey is helping him get more used to all the people in his church family. I really think he is ready for us to leave him this time. It is only for an hour, after all."

"Lacey, come here," Mary called. Lacey obediently turned the stroller and pushed it toward them.

Lying in the stroller, which served in place of a wheel chair (which they hoped they would never actually need) and was less conspicuous, was the three-year-old who was the newest member of the Fitzwilliam family, though as of yet he was only with them as a relative placement.

Mary leaned forward and greeted him. "Hi CB."

Mary thought once more how adorable Charlie was with his blonde curls and blue eyes. When one first saw him, it was not all that apparent that there was something wrong with him, though it seemed a bit odd that a child of his age was in a stroller rather than running around.

Charlie looked at her for a moment before he smiled his unique smile which was stronger on one side than the other and reached toward her with his left arm (his right arm was still, with his hand clenched in his nearly perpetual fist). As Mary squeezed his left hand and smiled back, she once again wished Charlie had not suffered a birth injury. Although she had known about him in an abstract way as the child that resulted from Caroline's pregnancy which had proven to Richard that she was cheating on him, she had not known about his cerebral palsy, which left the whole left side of his body weak, with with his muscles being too stiff. Officially he had the variety called spastic hemiplegia.

"CB, church is about to start and it is time to go to the nursery and see your friends."

Charlie replied with the garbled word that Mary had come to understand meant, "Okay."

Mary walked by Charlie's side as Lacey pushed his stroller.

"When will Charlie be old enough to come to children's church with me?" Lacey asked.

"Not until he is five, but by then you will be in the tweeners class. You get bumped up in the fall as then you will be in third grade." Mary tried to explain.

"You mean I never get to be in the same class with him?" Lacey looked sad.

"No, I am afraid not. There is just too much of a difference in your ages."

"But he needs me with him Mary. 'Cause he doesn't have Aunt Louisa or Mommy anymore."

"He still has his Aunt Louisa; he just doesn't live with her anymore. She still loves him, remember, it is just that she can't take care of him the way she wants to. Between her children, her condition and his, she just didn't feel she could do it anymore." Mary had explained this many times before. "He has so many appointments he needs to be taken to and once your aunt found out that she had MS and it was getting worse, she wanted to make sure CB would be with people who could give him everything he needed."

"But Aunt Louisa was almost his mommy. I am glad he is with us, but it doesn't seem fair to Charlie." Lacey was the only one who called him Charlie as Louisa had taken to calling him CB which was short for Charles Bingley and CB corrected everyone as to what he expected to be called except for Lacey, probably because that is what she had always called him. Officially his full name was Charles Bingley Fitzwilliam as Caroline had given him that name when she was still trying to convince Richard that he was his.

CB asserted himself then and said fairly distinctly, "Home here!" and then an approximation of, "Love Lacey," while looking at Lacey, "Love Mommy," while looking at Mary. Mary felt tears invading her eyes then. Perhaps he had really meant to say Mary and not Mommy, but her heart was convinced otherwise.

Mary was still thinking about that very special moment when she was finally called in by the nurse. They chit-chatted about all the changes Mary had been through since her last appointment as her vitals were taken. Then after Mary changed into her gown, the doctor came in.

Dr. Beasley was a kind-hearted woman in her sixties that always had time to listen to her patients and genuinely wanted the best for them. She told Mary, "I am sorry you had to wait so long, but my last patient progressed quite quickly and then afterwards we had to fix her up."

"That's okay," Mary told her, "birthing moms need to be your priority for sure."

"And how are you, Mary? Nurse Rothman tells me that since we saw you last year you got married, moved and besides gaining a step-daughter you also took placement of your step-daughter's brother who has some special needs after his mother died."

"Yes," Mary told her. "I knew about CB of course, but as my husband isn't his father and he'd been living with his aunt, I really didn't think that would change when his mother Caroline died. However, a couple of months after that, Aunt Louisa was diagnosed with MS. I do believe she really wanted to keep him but understood how much he really needs and her husband wasn't all that supportive. She contacted social services and they tracked down CB's father (who should have been paying child support to her but wasn't). CB started more regular visitation with his father with the goal of reunification, but after a weekend home visit, he called social services up and told them he just couldn't do it. Social services then started looking for another relative placement for him. We made the list because my husband's daughter Lacey is his sister. I think we were fairly far down on the list but they kept coming up empty. Caroline and Louisa's brother Charles and his wife (who is coincidentally my sister) said they would step up if there was absolutely no one else unable to care for him, but they have some children (twins who were born premature) with special needs themselves, so in the end we ended up with him as we had less on our plate and thought Lacey having a close relationship with her brother if possible would be very good for them both."

Mary suddenly stopped talking, realizing that this was probably far more than Dr. Beasley wanted to know.

Dr. Beasley nodded sympathetically and then commented, "That is a lot for anyone to take on and probably far more than you thought you would ever have on your plate. I imagine you've put a lot of your life on hold to cope with it all."

"Yes I have," Mary told her, thinking about all the students she had to drop (though of course she did her best to find other teachers for them).

"I certainly understand that you needed to do that, but you also need to consider your own needs and not just other people's needs. Were you able to be seen by that fertility clinic I referred you to or did you decide this wasn't the time?" Dr. Beasley consulted her laptop and then added, "Also, did you ever find out if your husband's reversal procedure was successful?"

"I still want a baby, very much so, even though I know the timing is not all that great," Mary confided, "I know my time is limited if it isn't already too late. But twice I have had to cancel appointments with them because things have come up with Charlie. I have a new appointment in set up for June."

"I hope you are able to make that one," Dr. Beasley told her.

She consulted her computerized records once more. "I know the last time you came in, you were wondering if you were ovulating still as your cycle is sometimes delayed. Your numbers were not too bad then, but at the time you weren't married so didn't want to try to get pregnant. If you want, I can order some blood testing so that you can see whether the fertility drugs I can prescribe would be of use to you. If your numbers are still good enough, you could try the fertility drugs during your next cycle instead of just waiting on your fertility appointment."

"I would definitely be interested in that," Mary told her, feeling more positive.

Dr. Beasley pulled out a print out and discussed with Mary how it indicated when in the cycle the medication would need to be taken and the timing of sexual intercourse that was recommended if it turned out she was a good candidate for clomid, then commented, "I know it isn't all that romantic to have intercourse on a schedule, but this is quite effective when the drugs do trigger ovulation."

Mary took the chart and set it on on her pile of clothes on the chair next to the examining table.

"Let's go ahead and do your exam, shall we? Do you remember the first day of your last period?"

Mary thought a little, feeling sheepish that it took her a little time to figure out an approximation as she knew she would get asked that question. "It has been two and a half or maybe three months," she confessed.

Dr. Beasley called the nurse and at first all seemed to be going the same as it always did for her pap smear, when she heard Dr. Beasley say to Nurse Rothman, "Do you notice that?"

"Yes," the nurse answered, "it is quite dark."

Mary was wondering what on earth was going on and whether she had some mysterious growth or something. She had meant to mention to the doctor that she had been feeling a bit odd, a little heavy in her middle, but she had attributed it to stress and had not thought much of it.

"Mary," Dr. Beasley asked, "have you taken any pregnancy tests since your last period?"

"No," Mary said, "there didn't seem to be any point. The whole time I've been married any time my period took more than a month to come I went ahead and tested but the tests were always negative. I got tired of wasting my money just to pee on a stick."

"Mary, I want to give you a pregnancy test today. We will do urine and blood."

"Why do you want to give me a pregnancy test?" Mary was confused.

"Your cervix, Mary, it is quite dark and that and its position suggests to me that you may be pregnant. Tell me, have you noticed any nausea, a tightness or sensitivity around your middle, or a darkening of your nipples?

"Maybe I've felt a little heavy in my middle and dresses have felt better than pants these days. Richard did mention the other day that he thought my nipples were darker, but when I looked at them I wasn't sure. Do you really think it could be?"

"Only one way to find out for sure. Let's do the tests. Do you think you can urinate now or do you need a drink of water?"

Twenty minutes later, Mary was holding a stick with two lines, which the nurse had put in a little baggy for her to keep. She also had a printed out form that said that her urine pregnancy test was positive. She'd also had her blood drawn, both to check for pregnancy and for beta numbers. Mary knew that she was happy, but she was also shocked. It did not seem real. She had considered calling or texting Richard, but in the end decided this was the sort of news that needed to be shared in person.


	14. It Is Normal To Feel Envious

**Chapter 14: It Is Normal To Feel Envious Of Other People Who Have What You Want  
**

On Friday afternoon at about 3pm, Elizabeth stared at the drying ovulation prediction stick. The test line was once again lighter than the control line. It seemed that she was not about to ovulate soon. She snapped a picture of it with her phone as she had an app that stored the images and helped her try to discern a pattern without having to keep the sticks. Then she wrapped the stick in toilet paper and threw it away. Her cycle once again looked to be a long one. Would she even ovulate this month or would it be another anovulatory cycle?

Elizabeth flopped on her bed and opened up a different app on her phone, the one she used for tracking her cycles. She looked at her current cycle. She was at day 59 of her cycle which had started with a thirteen day long period after a previously anovulatory cycle. She was already past when the app had predicted her body to be most fertile and was into the predicted days for her period. She entered in the data of yet another negative opk.

Elizabeth looked at her basal body temperature (bbt) data which still looked pre-ovulatory. Earlier in the month the app had stated she had ovulated based on a spike in bbt. It had given her cross-hairs which indicated the likely day of ovulation and separated the post-ovulation temperatures from the pre-ovulation ones, but then after a couple of days of lower bbts, the app had taken away her supposed ovulation. Women in an online support group she was a member of always went on and on about the frustration of the two week wait after ovulation to test for pregnancy, while she only wished to be in the running, to have a chance at another baby.

Elizabeth reviewed the charts of her previous 5 cycles. A couple seemed fairly typical, but the vast majority were far too long and anovulatory. It wasn't going to happen . . . . That thought occurred to Elizabeth with more and more regularity.

Elizabeth had not thought she wanted another baby, but in the weeks after the Rosings romp (as she and Willie called it), she had imagined a growing swell beneath her waist, considered which of her dresses would accommodate the start of a baby bump. When she had gone shopping with Jane a week later (quite a rare occurrence), she had hesitated over buying an emerald green fitted sheath dress which would be perfect for a charity event she would be attending in late summer. Even though she thought their timing had not been particularly good or bad (depending upon the goal in mind), she kept imagining a tiny ball of cells dividing inside her; she knew if she was indeed pregnant the dress would never fit then.

"You've got to buy it, Lizzy," Jane encouraged, "you look amazing in it. I am sure Fitzwilliam would agree with me. Take it home, keep on the tags and save the receipt. You can always return it if you find a better dress, though I don't see how you can top it and it is even 30% off."

In the end Elizabeth bought the dress. The store had a ninety day return window so she would certainly know with plenty of time to return it.

Elizabeth tried to then get Jane to shop for herself, but Jane wasn't making it easy. After Elizabeth bought her dress and told Jane it was now her turn, Jane immediately went to the children's clothing department and started shopping in earnest for her children.

After a while of this Elizabeth said, "Are you ever going to shop for yourself?"

"I don't see what the point is, Lizzy. As a stay-at-home mom, it is not like I need to dress up. I just need comfortable and sturdy clothes that wash up well."

"Still Jane, don't you think you need one nice dress or cute new outfit? Not gala nice, but maybe something for a date night with Charlie?"

"We hardly ever go out now anymore." Jane replied. Her look was serene as she said in a matter-of-fact and calm voice, "It is hard to get a sitter, especially one who is willing to look after the twins."

When Elizabeth gave her a concerned look Jane was quick to add, "I am used to it. It is no big deal. I am happy with my life. I love all my children."

"I know you do, Jane, and I know you are a terrific mother, but it shouldn't be what your whole life is about."

"It is not," Jane was quick to defend. "I go to some of the ladies events at my church and I have a monthly book club. Charles takes care of the children then."

"Still, that isn't a date night with Charlie. Have you even ever gotten away for a night or two since the children arrived, just the two of you?"

Jane shook her head in negation. "Do you remember that one time that Mom offered to watch them overnight? She called me up only about two hours after we dropped them off and we had to have the restaurant pack up our dinner when we had only eaten a couple of bites. Mom found Liam with that open box of laundry detergent packs and we ended up meeting her and all of the kids in the hospital emergency room because when she asked, 'did you eat any of these?' he repeated back, 'did eat these' and so she thought he did? When we figured out he hadn't had any at all, she apologized for overreacting and offered to take them back home with her, but by then I couldn't let her. She obviously couldn't watch them the way they needed to be watched and her home wasn't safe for them. Would Pemberley really be any better? They aren't going to eat anything bad, thank goodness they are too old to worry about that now, but you probably have lots of things that could be broken."

Elizabeth reflected, "Do you think they could break something on top of our foyer rug that would cause a permanent stain? I think that is the only way we will ever be rid of it now."

"No," Jane said wistfully, "Somehow they always seem to mess up only the things that I really like. Did I tell you about the time we were eating spaghetti and not only did my nice pants get used as a napkin, but that landscape painting in our dining room (at the far end of our dining room), ended up with saucy spaghetti on top of the mountain?"

"I don't think I've heard that one before, but I have an idea, why don't you bring the children over to stay with us for the weekend and have a romantic getaway with your husband?"

Jane gave Elizabeth a long look, "Are you sure you'd be up for it? Even though Luke and Liam are seven, they really need to be watched all the time, more than Cole does. That might be a challenge at Pemberley with all your rooms. Also, isn't that the sort of thing you should work out for sure with your husband first?"

"Yes, I will definitely check with Willie, but I think he'd be fine with it. It seems like you are forgetting that I have watched them before. Look I will ask him right now!"

Elizabeth pulled out her phone and sent off a quick message. About 30 seconds later she got a reply. "See, he says it is fine. Besides, I think it would be good for all the cousins to spend some time together. Anyway, I think your husband would be thrilled to get a chance to have you all to himself. You don't even need to go anywhere if you don't want to, you could just sleep in and rest."

"Are you really sure? The thought is a nice one even if you don't end up doing it."

"We are up for it, listen, talk to Charlie right now and get your plans made and then depending on what you want to do, we'll find the perfect outfit."

Jane retreated a little bit and then called her husband. When she came back she was beaming. "Charles says he is going to plan a full weekend for us!"

It occurred to Elizabeth then that it had been a long time since she had seen such a happy smile out of her sister.

Elizabeth then suggested that they shop for Jane. While her sister at first deferred and had them first shop for their husbands instead, Elizabeth finally had to insist that it was now time to shop for Jane. "You've gotten something for everyone else and its your turn now."

While Jane went along with it, Elizabeth noticed that Jane seemed not nearly as generous with herself as she had been in shopping for her children. Though Elizabeth saw her sister's eyes light up when she saw certain clothes, Jane checked the price tag on each item before she would even pick it up. Quickly she moved onto the sales rack and only made selections from there to try on.

Finally Elizabeth had enough. Based on her many years of shopping with Jane and trying on clothes tgoether , she knew more than enough about their respective frames to know what would likely look good on her sister (and not on herself) and started pulling items off the rack for her sister to try. Jane kept trying to protest that she didn't need this or that, but Elizabeth was relentless (she was channeling a good deal of her mother in the process). She made Jane try on everything and several items looked quite well on her. However, Jane only ended up selecting a new pair of jeans to buy. Elizabeth took the discard pile back, but rather than returning them all, she picked out several items that she knew had looked good on Jane and bought them when Jane was in the restroom. Elizabeth then snuck out to her car and put the extra items she had purchased for Jane in the trunk.

After all that shopping, the sisters had lunch together. As it often did, their conversation devolved into discussing the challenges of raising children. Elizabeth, who was still waiting to see whether anything had come of the Rosings Romp, suddenly asked Jane, "Have you ever thought about what it might be like to have another child?"

"Oh dear no! Do not curse me like that. The last time I had baby fever I ended up with the twins. We are done, done, done!"

Then Jane had given Elizabeth a thoughtful look, "Why? Are babies on your mind?"

"Well," Elizabeth allowed, "we got a bit carried away about a week ago and I think we still aren't used to having to think about birth control in the moment. I was really freaked out at the time, but now I keep finding myself imagining what it would be like to have just one more."

"Oh, Lizzy, I thought you were happy with your four."

"I am but, I keep wondering what just one more might be like."

"And all the increased chances miscarriage and of having a child with Down Syndrome or another birth defect that just goes up and up with every year doesn't scare you? One of my friends just got pregnant unexpectedly and when she went it for her first ultra sound they couldn't find the heart beat; she got told when you are in your forties that about fifty percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage. I don't think I could bear to go through risking that, to suffering that kind of pain again."

Jane's eyes looked so sad and Elizabeth recalled the two pregnancies her sister had lost. One was only of a couple of weeks of duration, but the second she had made it past the first trimester and about two weeks after sharing news of the pregnancy with everyone, she then had to tell them all that it had come to naught or actually it was mostly Bingley had been charged with the task. It had been so strange to see him stripped of his normally jovial expressions; everyone knew right away that something was Terribly wrong.

Jane continued, "It was so scary when my youngest guys were born so early. I had to worry about blindness and brain bleeds. I never want to go through that again. But of course if you end up with another baby, I will support your decision. It's just that you have it really good. I am not sure you understand how good."

Elizabeth had left the conversation there. Those were all excellent points and why she and Willie had originally decided they were done when Cole arrived when she had been in her late 30s. Still, she kept thinking of what it would be like to hold another baby in her arms.

That weekend taking care of the Bingley kids had been something else and Jane had been right that Luke and Liam had to be watched constantly. Pemberley didn't suffer too much, though. The worst that they did was to break some glass bottles that had been put out with the recycling. That weekend had been enough that Elizabeth felt not too disappointed when her period came. However, a few days later, Elizabeth had a longing once again for a baby. It confused her. All the reasons they had decided they were done, years ago, had not changed and in the intervening time the risks had only increased.

Elizabeth talked with Willie about what she was feeling. He listened quietly and did not tell her what he was feeling until the end, until she practically demanded that he respond. "I don't think you are going to like what I have to say, so I'd rather not say it. You don't want frankness. As I recall when I first asked you out and told you of my misgivings in doing so, you were prepared to never see me again rather than to find any merit in what I thought about you family save Jane."

Of course that raised her ire (she was already feeling defensive) and she practically demanded that he explain himself. "Fine," he told her, "but I already warned you. It seems to me that this might be the woman's version of a midlife crisis. Men want women half their age and fancy sports cars to help themselves feel young and women want to have babies as they see women half their ages doing. This would cause so much upheaval. You've told me that you like having a job, that as much as you liked staying home with the children when they were little that it was a relief when Cole started preschool and you could have your own life again. You've been really successful in finding donors for the foundation and making sure the money is spent in the right way. Do you just want to give that all up or do you want to put a new baby in daycare?"

She railed at him then. "This might be my last chance, it might even now be too late. All of our children have been wonderful in their own ways and it is not as if we don't have the money to have more. Don't you miss holding cuddly little babies and that new baby smell?"

"Do you hear yourself? They don't stay little. They are so much work and a life-long commitment. We already have at least twelve more years until our youngest becomes an adult and these days most children are still at least somewhat dependent through college and beyond. I want us to have our time when our current children are finally grown, not still be helping with school fundraisers and being mistaken for grandma and grandpa. We did the baby thing and it was a lot of work, the toddler thing too, and each stage that has come since then. I like it much better now that they are older and we can have real conversations with them."

They had gone back and forth several times then, and as Elizabeth railed against everything he said, she found herself sounding like a petulant toddler that wasn't getting her way. Still, she couldn't seem to help herself from lashing out. Finally they quit trying to hash it out. They were both getting more and more upset. Annoyingly though for Elizabeth, it was Willie who stayed calm when she was being her most unreasonable. They went to bed in the same bed but each kept to their separate sides. Elizabeth felt miserable and thought that Willie likely felt the same.

The next day they talked again more calmly. Fitzwilliam told her, "You seem to be very emotionally invested in this whole idea. How are you going to feel if you get pregnant and then have a miscarriage? How are you going to feel if you get pregnant and find out the child will have disabilities?"

"You aren't going to tell me that children with Down Syndrome shouldn't get to live, are you?"

"No, I am not. I will love any child we have, but such a child would require a lot of care. We have plenty of money which would ameliorate some of the stress of dealing with that which other families have to bear; we can afford to care for a child for a lifetime if need be, but I know you and I know me. We would both be spending a lot of our time trying to help such a child reach his or her full potential. It is just who we are, and it would take us away from our work and from the time we could give to our other children."

"It sounds like you have come to a decision," Elizabeth noted, "as you said 'will' love rather than 'would' or 'could' or 'hypothetically speaking.'"

"Can you doubt that I would not do anything I could for your happiness? I just wonder if this will truly make you happy. I just see a lot of potential for disaster, of hurts that you have not experienced before. Why do you wish to risk everything?"

"I have always wanted a large family," Elizabeth said. "Perhaps it is that I grew up in a family of five children. And, yes, before you say it life in my home growing up would have been easier without Lydia, yet my mother perhaps loved her best of all."

"Maybe that is the difference, then." Fitzwilliam allowed. "Growing up as one of two, I have had no particular need for a large family. Our four children are more than enough for me. I will go along with this is you are certain that it is truly what you want, but please think about it for a week or two and do all your research before diving in."

Somehow it was easier for Elizabeth to be certain she dearly wanted another child when Fitzwilliam was actively opposing her than when he gave way. As the week slowly passed, she considered whether she was being wrongfully bull-headed as she had been about how Willie had wronged George Wickham. She felt she should be more level-headed now that she was double the age she was when she misunderstood both men's characters so completely. But still felt she a longing she was well familiar with and had felt before each baby was conceived. So when the week was up, she told him, "I am certain. So let's have fun and see what will come of it."

And the first couple of months of trying (which was as long as it had ever taken her to become pregnant before), were a lot of fun and Willie reaped the benefits of a wife who was after him almost every night. But then when it didn't happen, Elizabeth turned to studying the problem and looking into every solution. Repeatedly she saw that most of the advice aimed at women her age was to seek out costly fertility treatments and to use donor eggs. The idea of carrying a child that was not truly hers and Willie's was distasteful to her. She could understand why a woman with no children or only one might turn to such an approach (she could even imagine that Mary and Richard might do exactly that, Mary was after all only fourteen months younger than herself). She wanted the child she dreamed of to be a product of the same methods which had yielded all the rest.

To Elizabeth if her body couldn't do it the old fashioned way anymore, it seemed to her that it wasn't meant to be. That didn't keep her from taking lots of supplements, eating only organic foods and eliminating all plastic food storage from their house. But while Elizabeth felt good, it had not yielded any results. So here she was months later, no closer to a pregnancy and what was worse, she had started to experience hot-flashes, which was confirmation to her that it likely was too late.

Elizabeth opened up the drawer in which kept her opks and pregnancy tests. She counted out the remaining opks of her 100 pack, eighteen. This was the second package she had almost finished using with no results. She had been pondering whether she should buy another package online or not. She told herself, enough is enough and resolved that when she ran out she would stop with the madness. It was not that she was going to have them go back to being careful, but that she would quit fooling herself with the idea that she could control anything. She resolved that she could live with disappointment.

It was only a few minutes after that when Elizabeth's phone dinged with a text. Opening it up, she saw it was from Mary. _Do you have time to talk? I have some news._

Elizabeth replied,_ Sure sis._

A few seconds later the phone began to ring. Elizabeth immediately picked up and they engaged in some inane chit-chat for a few minutes. Finally Mary said, "I have some good news but it really hasn't sunk in yet and I keep worrying that it is too good to be true and something will go wrong. I am sitting in my car outside of my doctor's office. I need to go home and talk to Richard about what I found out, but I am a bit scared although I shouldn't be."

"What on earth is wrong, Mary? You don't sound like yourself."

"Well Lizzy, I just found out a few minutes ago that I am pregnant. I've always wanted a baby and I didn't even know if it would be possible, but now that it has happened I am filled with anxiety."

Elizabeth said all the right things and listened as Mary shared her worries that she might miscarry or that the child might be born with a congenital defect. She listened when Mary wondered aloud how she would handle caring for CB and a new baby. She listened as Mary carried on about her fear that she might unintentionally favor the baby over Lacey or CB, or that even if she didn't that the other children might see it that way.

She listened as Mary worried about how her marriage would change with the addition of another child. "It has never just been us. I knew that he and Lacey were a package deal and I was fine with that, but I didn't expect to immediately after we got married be trying to comfort her after the loss of her mother or to a few months after be raising her brother, too. It is not that I doubt my decisions, but it has been a lot to deal with."

"And having a baby is just one more change?"

"Yes, that is it exactly. My life has changed so much and so quickly. This is a good change I am sure but still I feel all topsy-turvy about it. My emotions are all over the place."

At the end, Mary seemed dutifully reassured and thanked Elizabeth for listening. She swore Elizabeth to secrecy, telling her, "Of course you can tell Fitzwilliam soon, but I haven't even told Richard so please don't say anything to anyone yet. I didn't want him to hear any of my doubts. After all, it has happened now and there is no going back. I am not even sure how pregnant I am; when I get the numbers we will have a better idea. It is the best Mother's Day gift ever! I don't know if you ever knew this, but every Mother's Day since you and our sisters became mothers, I have always been a bit jealous though of course I was always happy for you too. It just felt like it would never be my time to get married or to have children; I was half convinced it was too late. I am almost scared to hope and believe that at the end of the day I will have a baby to take home from the hospital."

After Elizabeth got off the phone, she cried. She knew intellectually how wrong it was to be envious of Mary. After all, had Mary not just told her how many years she had envied her? Mary certainly deserved to have a child that she got to raise from the beginning, who had no loyalties to anyone outside her immediate family. And yet Elizabeth was envious. Elizabeth allowed herself to have a pity party for just a few more minutes and then wiped off her face and got up.

Elizabeth went to her bathroom mirror to look at her own face and make sure no obvious signs of her crying remained. It was not the same young face she had borne when she married Willie or had her first child. She thought she looked good for her age, but the marks of age were present, still. Time moved on for everyone as much as she might wish it might stand still. Disappointments were part of life. She resolved that Mary would never see that she was anything other than completely happy for her.


	15. It Isn't Easy Being A Father Either

_Polling question: Should Mary have a boy or a girl and what should the baby's name be?_

**Chapter 15: It Isn't Easy Being A Father Either, So Support The Good Fathers In Your Life  
**

Richard was trying to get CB to nap when he heard the clackety-clack and hum that meant the garage door was opening to admit Mary's car. The little boy who had seemed on the verge of sleep sat up excitedly and started saying, "Mommy here!" He rolled and slipped off the bed and as he wasn't wearing his braces, did the sitting up scooting he preferred and reverted to when he did not have the extra support and encouragement to walk.

Richard sighed and said, "Yes, it is her. I'll get your braces." He liked that CB now called Mary "Mommy" and indeed she was a Mommy to him, but it also felt odd as Mary was not his mother. Although Caroline had not really been much of a caregiver to him, letting her sister take the lead, it seemed wrong to let her be forgotten. He thought, not for the first time, that had Caroline lived, perhaps she would have stepped up and been a real mother to CB after her sister Louisa realized that she could no longer raise him. He thought that despite Caroline's selfishness and self-absorbed nature that she really did care about her children. He had thought that maybe she would have been able to relate better to her children when they were older and would then take on a more important role in their lives.

CB was sweet and affectionate, and had already experienced such loss and difficulty in his life, but no one would know it as he had a sunny disposition. Richard supposed it helped that he had been loved so well by his Aunt Louisa and that she had done her best to take an active part in his life even though he no longer lived with her. She, of course, used to be first in his heart, but it wasn't long until Aunt Lou-Lou was supplanted by Mary. Lacey was clearly a close second in his heart, followed closely behind by Aunt Lou-Lou with his natural father, Eric, somewhere behind that and Mr. Hurst and Richard somewhere below there.

Richard himself cared deeply about the little fellow. It was impossible not to care for him with all the time they were together, yet Richard guarded his heart and likely CB could tell. In this he and Mary differed greatly; Mary loved him deeply from the first without reserve. When he asked her why, she told him, "He needs love and since I can give it, I will."

Richard had mixed feeling when he spent time with CB; part of him always felt a certain regret. Looking at CB, he was always reminded of the fact that this could have been his son, should have been his son, but that Caroline had stolen this from him. She had told him over and over that she did not want anymore children, that one had been more than enough and that they needed a permanent solution. He hadn't really wanted to get a vasectomy, but he had wanted to make her happy, wanted to save his marriage. He had thought that if he gave her that, that it might make things easier and better. It hadn't.

Instead Eric and perhaps others had cuckolded him. He remembered the humiliation he felt when after filing for divorce and telling his attorney that he knew the child his wife was carrying could not be his own, that his attorney had said most matter-of-factly, "Mr. Fitzwilliam, I hesitate to bring this up, but there is no telling what your wife might have or might have exposed you to. You really ought to go see your doctor and get tested for everything, just in case."

He found it humiliating as a married man who had always been faithful to his wife to have to make an appointment with his doctor and ask for full STD testing, including for HIV. Then when he had arrived for the appointment, the nurse asked him what he was there for, and then when the doctor came in the room he did the same.

Richard didn't understand why he repeatedly had to repeat the reason for his visit. It was embarrassing and he was too old for this.

The doctor had said sympathetically, "A lot of people slip up. It is nothing to be ashamed of. It is great that you are being proactive, just in case."

"No I haven't!" Richard had defended. "My wife cheated on me."

"Of course Mr. Fitzwilliams," the doctor had replied, but Richard felt the doctor's tone was patronizing and had the sense that the doctor had not believed him. From the doctor's hurried typing on his laptop, Richard hated to think of how the clinical notes read.

The doctor asked, "Have you been having any burning or discharge with urination?"

"No," he told him, hating the sullen tone of his voice.

"I will fill out the order and you can get your testing at the lab downstairs in a few minutes. I advise that you tell your wife to get testing, too. Assuming everything is clean with you, you will get a letter in the mail. If there is any kind of bad news I will call you and if it is really bad I will have someone call to schedule an appointment. I still want you to have a follow-up HIV test in three months as if you have gotten that it can take a while for the antibodies to show up. People are now living long and productive lives with HIV when they are on anti-retrovirals; it is not the death sentence it once was. Call in three months so I can put in the new lab order. You won't have to come see me again then, just the lab. Until then, make sure you are practicing safer sex."

Richard when waiting for his turn with the phlebotomist recalled when his little sister had told him about the mandatory HIV education she received in high school. She had expressed her horror when the school nurse gave the example of how if a woman slept with four men, and each of those four men had slept with four women before her, and so on and so on, how many people whose diseases she might be exposed to from her partners' partners. He felt sickened, not knowing who all Caroline might have been with and knowing that since she had lied and told him this baby was his, that he could not hope to get an honest answer from her.

He had been prepared to hate CB's father Eric when he first met him, at a meeting the social workers had arranged. He could not understand how a man would just give his child away. But Eric, aside from his movie-star golden locks and million dollar smile in a tanned and fit body, which Richard imagined had been the basis for Caroline's attraction to him, seemed to be a decent guy. Eric had asked to speak to Richard alone and told him, "I need to apologize to you, Richard. I did not know I was getting in the middle of a marriage. Caroline told me she was divorced. I am not that kind of guy. I am sorry about you having to take CB. I just travel so much for my work that I am not in a position as a single man to give him what he needs. My company let me try a desk job, but it just wasn't working out well and it wouldn't have been right to have him raised by a full-time nanny."

Richard had bit back the retort that in a sense he and his wife were about to be stuck being CB's full time nannies.

"It is great that he will be with family," Eric had continued on, oblivious to Richard's anger. "Being with his sister is really great, probably better than if he had stayed with his aunt and cousins."

Although Eric did not feel capable of caring for CB full-time he continued to exercise visitation but based on the distance only saw CB about once a month. However, unlike Caroline, Eric was always punctual for visits. He would fly into town, stay in a hotel for the weekend and spend a few hours with CB each day. Richard was convinced that in a few years, once the hardest work was through and CB was more capable of managing his special needs for himself, that Eric would very likely want him back.

Eric was the fun parent, who got to take CB to the zoo and out to lunch. He was the parent who bought him lots of presents and fancy clothes and did not bother to learn how to help CB get his braces on or how to do any physical therapy with him. Eric didn't have to do any of the ordinary things but help him in the bathroom as he never kept him overnight. He never had to take him to school (as he was three-years old he attended public pre-school Mondays through Thursdays based on his special needs), or go to IEP meetings, or go to doctor's appointments.

Richard supposed he should have been glad that Eric was paying child support and did want to be part of CB's life. He did not want to be resentful, but he was resentful knowing that he and Mary had no rights to CB, that at any point he could be whisked away by the man who shared his blood. Perhaps this was why he always was a bit distant from CB; he was scared to truly take him into his heart as a son knowing that someday he would likely be gone.

After Richard placed CB's braces on and helped him to hit feet, he toddled in Mary's direction, obediently waiting at the top of the stairs as was their rule as he was not to go down them without an adult in front of him in case he had trouble. Mary rushed up the stairs and scooped CB up. "Why aren't you napping, CB?" She asked with a big smile, indulgently.

"Mommy home, no bed." Richard smiled at hearing how much better CB's sounds were becoming. He still spoke like a much younger child, but was making strides in communicating.

"Let's try some more, CB. Would you like to take a nap with me in my bed?"

"Yes, Mommy bed." He grinned and nodded, then snuggled into her chest.

"I really want CB to sleep in his own bed," Richard told Mary. They had this discussion multiple times. Richard thought Mary was too indulgent with him. While CB always slept in his own bed at night, he often ended up in their bed for his daytime nap.

"I know," she told him, "but he won't be taking naps for long. I really don't see the harm in it, in indulging him while he is the youngest still."

Richard followed them into the bedroom he shared with Mary. If he could not convince her to stick with putting CB to bed in his own room, at least he would share the nap with him and Mary. It was only after he crawled into the bed that CB was now in the middle of, with Mary removing his braces from her position on the other side, that he started to reflect on her words.

Likely Mary didn't mean anything by them. They did have that appointment with the fertility doctor coming up. She must be just anticipating the time when they would have their own child. But something in her matter-of-fact tone had been different. Usually Mary was always careful to say "if" rather than "when" about them having children. He wasn't sure how, "while" fit into that dynamic. Although Richard's reversal surgery had been partially successful, his sperm count was still lower than it should have been and Mary always seemed to be trying very hard to not to get her hopes up.

"How was your appointment?" He asked, watching as Mary snuggled CB and stroked his forehead down toward his eyes. Within moments, CB's eyes were once more looking heavy and a few moments later he closed them. She kept stroking for awhile saying nothing.

Richard was starting to feel annoyed and wondering whether he should repeat his question. "It was fine, good in fact," she said quietly. "I will tell you all about it when he is asleep."

"Not sleeping!" CB insisted, blinking and opening his eyes a bit. A moment later his lids closed again when Mary resumed stroking his forehead. Soon his jaw slackened. Richard kept watching him. When Mary slowed her hand down, he wiggled a little, but a few moments later his breath slowed. She rested her hand on his forehead for perhaps a minute longer and then finally, slowly, carefully, removed it. She and Richard watched; CB did not stir. Carefully, oh so carefully, Mary wiggled her body away from CB, until she reached the edge of the bed and sat up. After she stood up, Richard sat up and did likewise. They silently walked out of the room and then Mary shut the door.

They moved into the family room and settled on a couch. Mary was looking at Richard with an expression that he had not seen on her face before. She seemed a little anxious and possibly also excited. "What is is, Mary?"

"I've got some news. Wonderful news, but it will change everything and now that it is here, I am not sure I am ready for it, with how much everything has been changing." Mary felt that she was just dancing around the topic.

"Can you guess what it is?" Somehow it seemed to her that Richard should just know. She knew it was silly of her to feel that way.

"Your doctor was able to get you a quicker appointment with the fertility doctor?" Richard guessed. He thought it was a good guess; what else could it be?

"I . . . it . . ." She reached into her pocket and deposited a Ziploc baggy in his hand.

Richard wrinkled up his forehead and seemed perplexed. "What is this? What does it mean?"

He was confused by the thin white stick with two lines. He had heard of pregnancy tests before of course, but did not guess this was one of them.

Mary had hoped it would be enough, but then resorted to taking out the folded piece of paper and handing it to him.

Richard unfolded it and tried to read it at arm's length as he was not wearing his reading glasses, but the print was just too small. "I need my cheaters," he told her.

Mary smiled a little at the term that she associated with old men; her husband was way too young to call them that.

"Can't you just tell me? I'm not sure where my glasses are."

"Okay, I can do this," Mary gave herself a pep-talk. "Here goes. I . . . its a . . . that is . . . the paper tells you . . . its a positive test, for pregnancy."

Richard's quizzical look suddenly resolved into a look of disbelief. "It isn't April Fools' Day today, is it? You aren't having fun with me, are you?"

Mary shook her head "no" and looked down at her lap, suddenly shy. She looked up at him, "It is real."

Richard suddenly gave her a huge grin and pulled her onto his lap and into his arms. "Really and truly?" He looked into her eyes, which were now only a few inches from his own.

She nodded and gave a tentative smile. She wasn't sure now why she'd been a little scared to tell him.

"Well what do you know, we were able to do it on our own!" He moved his right hand from where it was snaked around her back to rest in over her belly button. "Here?"

"No," she adjusted his hand lower, "here for now. But I don't want you to get too excited. We don't know how far along I am with how irregular my period has been. I had blood-work today and that should tell us more. Also, I know we've talked about this before, but the miscarriage rate at my age can be rather high. I am trying to be hopefully but not unrealistic."

"That's why you said 'while.'" Richard commented, half to himself.

"While?" Now Mary was confused.

"Something about letting CB nap in our bed 'while' he is the youngest." He explained, feeling like a dope for bringing up an offhanded comment she had made perhaps twenty minutes ago.

"Yes, I want this so bad. I know the timing is crap and we are still getting used to how our lives work together and with CB. But there it is."

"Nonsense, it isn't crap, never crap." He gave her belly a little pat, leaned toward her and kissed her forehead. "It is amazing! It is wonderful! You are amazing; I already know you are a great Mom and now we truly will be parents together. Lacey will have a sister or another brother. She will be so excited and your mother too." Richard was already imagining how Lacey would smile and spin and maybe for at least a time be back to the happy little girl she had been before Caroline died. Having CB in their lives had brought her back a bit and maybe a new baby would do that even more. He could also imagine Mrs. Bennet's ear-splitting screeches of joy.

"We can't say anything yet, Richard, promise me you won't. I want to make sure this one will stick. The last thing I want is for everyone to know and then we have to take it back. My mom would tell hundreds of people, post it immediately on FB and call and email everyone she knows, just like she did when we got engaged."

"Well what about Lacey?"

"I would like to tell her," Mary acknowledged, "but kids aren't exactly known at being good at keeping secrets."

"But she could really use more good news," Richard pleaded.

"I know she could, but imagine her disappointment if we promise her a baby and then it dies. She doesn't need anymore pain."

"Okay, I guess, but surely we can tell someone. I'd really like to tell my family, my parents and my siblings. They can keep a secret. And what about Fitz? And your sisters?"

"Okay," Mary allowed, "but we need to come up with a list of names we can agree on and make them promise not to share anything beyond this group. And I am sorry, but someone already knows. I told Lizzy. I hope you aren't mad that you aren't the first to know, but I really needed to talk to someone and I knew you'd be busy with CB and the phone would not be the right way to tell you."

"It's okay," he said, though he wasn't sure it was okay he resolved to let it go.

"There is one person I really want to tell now if it is okay."

"Who's that?" Richard asked.

"My Aunt Philips. She's the one who really understands about not being able to have children when one wants them."

"You aren't afraid that she will tell your mom?" Richard was skeptical.

"No, I am not. Aunt Philips has always kept all my confidences, and she has been so helpful all this time."

Richard nodded. The house they had purchased was about a block from the Philipses and Aunt Philips has quickly become a trusted sitter for Lacey and CB, had even gained the nickname of Aunt Flip.

Mary pulled out her phone and dialed her aunt. When her aunt answered the phone, Mary immediately put the phone on speaker.

"Aunt Philips, we have wonderful news."

"That Eric is going to let you adopt CB?"

"No, nothing like that," Mary responded.

Richard exaggeratedly mouthed with very little sound, "Can I tell her?"

Mary nodded.

"Aunt Flip, your little brood of great nieces and nephews will grow by one. I got one past the goalie. Mary is expecting."

"Oh my goodness Mary, I had a feeling that this was going to be your year!" Aunt Philips gushed. "I am so happy for you, so excited, it is the most wonderful of news! You must be due in January or so. Oh a baby, it is all I have been praying for, for you, since you got married, well maybe before that, too. Oh I wonder if it will be a boy or a girl. Richard probably wants a son, but Lacey would probably like a sister, but either would be just wonderful. I am surprised your mother hasn't told me already. " Aunt Philips prattled on and on in such a fashion for a few minutes before Mary was finally able to interject.

"We haven't told Mom yet. It is still early and something might go wrong. We don't want her to know because she can't keep a secret. We are counting on you to keep it quiet."

"Oh, that will be a challenge, but one that I am up for. I can tell your uncle, though, can't I?"

"Yes, just make sure he puts it in the attorney-client privilege vault." Mary knew her uncle was a bigger gossip than even her mother, but he had never betrayed a confidence.

After they got off the phone with Aunt Philips, Mary told Richard, "It is your turn now." The rest of the time before Lacey returned home from school and CB woke up from his nap was spent making phone calls and if no one answered, texting to request call backs.

Mary's mouth hurt from grinning so much. When CB woke up, she picked him up and danced around with him. CB didn't need to know the reason to be happy to be happy with her.

When Lacey arrived home on the bus, Richard was waiting for her at her stop.

"Why are you so happy, Daddy?" she asked, spotting his wide smile.

"I just am." By the time they reached their driveway, Richard's exuberance had to be let out somehow. He picked Lacey up and swung her around so quickly that her legs flared out.

When he put her down, she gave him a half smile. "You are silly, Daddy."

Richard very much wanted to tell her then, but he resisted. When they got in the house, Lacey found that Mary and CB were in such great moods, too, that Lacey couldn't help but feel a bit happier, also. They ordered pizza, they went out for ice cream and they played Chutes and Ladders with CB (though he kept wandering away from the game). Lacey smiled more that day, because it was a good day.

But that night when Lacey was in her bed trying to fall asleep, she felt angry at Daddy, Mary, CB and herself, too. How could she have forgotten for a while? How could she have enjoyed herself? It didn't feel right to smile and be in a good mood when Mommy was asleep in a fancy box in the ground. Mommy would never eat pizza and ice cream again (or rather those fancy organic meals she liked that she said were good for her figure), she would never dress up in her pretty clothes or send pictures to Daddy's phone from her trips. And she would never have a sleepover with Mommy where they stayed up and watched movies. Mommy had promised they would when she was older, but now it was too late. Because Mommy couldn't do those things, it was wrong for Lacey to be happy ever again.

Lacey pushed her head into her pillow. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come somehow. It would be easier if they could, then it would prove how much she missed and loved Mommy.

All the joy Lacey had in the day had turned to pain but she resolved not to bother anyone with it. Daddy and Mommy had been divorced, which meant that Daddy no longer loved Mommy, but loved Mary instead, so he did not have to be sad that Mommy was gone. CB was too little to really remember Mommy. It was up to Lacey to remember and miss her, it was up to Lacey to be loyal and true. She couldn't see it in the dark, but she knew just where the picture of Mommy and Lacey was hanging up in her room. "I will miss you forever, Mommy," Lacey said in the direction of the picture. She did not fall asleep for a long time.


	16. Important Days Can Make You Emotional

**Chapter 16: Important Days Can Make You Emotional; Don't Turn On Those You Love Most.  
**

"Please tell me that my mom knows that your aunt is going to be at dinner tomorrow," Steven said to Georgiana. He looked a bit anxious as he always did when it came to arranging time with his mother.

"You were supposed to tell her," Georgiana responded evenly. "I thought we agreed that when it comes to your mom you are on point, so that was your responsibility."

Steve nodded, resigned. "I guess I was supposed to tell her, but I flubbed up and didn't."

"Why should it be a problem who we invite?" Georgiana asked, truly perplexed. "She doesn't mind when we have extra people for Easter or Thanksgiving."

"Just read her text and you'll see," Steve said glumly, handing over his phone.

_I'm really looking forward to a special Mother's Day dinner with just our family. I really missed you all last year._

"Do you see?" Steve asked. "The way she said, 'just our family' says it all."

"Are you sure you aren't reading more into it than you should?" she asked. "After all, we were gone last year."

"I might be. It is difficult to judge her meaning merely from the written word."

"I'm sure it is actually better that Aunt Catherine will be there. It will keep your mother on her best behavior. You know how she always wants new people to think the best of her, before they learn the truth."

Steve forced out a chuckle; it sounded harsh and unnatural to his ears. "You might be right. You know, though that whoever drives her home afterwards may get an earful."

"Drives her?"

"Did I not show you her earlier text?"

Steve scrolled and showed Georgiana his phone again.

_My right hip is acting up again. Much too painful to drive. What time will you get me tomorrow? Not up for cooking dessert anymore as I would have too stand too long._

"It is awfully convenient that now we have to pick her up and take her and now I've got to make dessert, too. I thought I had everything ready to go and now it is another trip to the store."

"Oh, that reminds me . . ." He held out his phone once more. "Maybe you should just read through all of the ten or so text messages she sent me today."

Georgiana scrolled and read. As she read she began to grow angry. "She expects me to go shopping for her, too?"

"I wasn't going to mention it or respond to it at all. If we ignore it, she'll probably find someone else to do it."

"Pinesol? Clorox? If she isn't well enough to stand up and cook, how is she well enough to mop her floors and do laundry?"

"Keep scrolling," Steve said, so she did.

"She's going gluten-free now? When did that happen? Is that why you said she'd be happy with the crock pot pot-roast? I was planning on making biscuits to go with it, but those would have gluten of course. Do you think it would be bad if I made them anyway? She doesn't have to eat them. What kind of dessert can I make now?"

Georgiana felt her anxiety grow as she thought through possible dessert ideas. Originally she had been happy that all she would have to do for dinner was to fry up the beef cubes, chop up the veggies and stick all the ingredients in the crock pot before church on low and would only need to make the buttermilk-garlic biscuits a little while before their 2pm dinner. When she'd read the text that Sylvia wouldn't be bringing the dessert, Georgiana's mind had shifted to thinking about desserts that might invoke good feelings in Aunt Catherine.

There were those cut out cookies that were her grandmother's recipe and Georgiana had been imagining involving the kids in making them tonight and having frosting them tomorrow be a family activity with everyone. Her sons still enjoyed picking out the cutters they wanted to try, and of course the frosting and eating of the cookies later. She recalled that her cousin Anne had loved those cookies and even had a special set of cookie cutters to make them. But now she wondered how Sylvia would perceive the making of such cookies if she couldn't eat them. Should she make the cookies anyway? Should she make a different dessert? Should she make two desserts?

Georgiana had a good gluten-free brownie recipe that she made for a friend who had Celiac disease and really and truly couldn't eat gluten. As she had joked with Susan, the only reason the recipe was any good was that it was packed chock full of all the bad stuff: cocoa, sugar, butter, eggs and then melted chocolate mixed with cream on top. Susan had loved it and raved about it.

"Georgiana, why don't we just buy some desserts. I bet we can even find a good gluten-free option at the grocery store. I hate to have you working more for a dinner that is supposed to be for your day."

Although Steve's answer was very reasonable, Georgiana felt annoyed. "This will be the first time Aunt Catherine is visiting since we moved to this home. I don't want to serve her some store-bought dessert when she has a whole kitchen staff that cooks for her. And though Sylvia might say all the right things, I think she would be judging me."

"I wish I was a better cook," Steve commented.

That comment just annoyed Georgiana further. "You could be if you ever tried. You are perfectly happy to let me do the cooking. Admit it!"

"Well who would want to cook in your kitchen when you are always looking over my shoulder to see if I am doing it right. It is damn annoying."

"I wouldn't have to look over your shoulder if you would follow the recipe and watch the pots. Do you remember when that one pot overflowed and the grease caught on fire when we had the old cook-top? And you wouldn't have known it except the smoke alarm went off. I ran into the kitchen and saw you trying to get water to put it out, not knowing that flour is better for putting out a grease fire."

"Sure point out the one time I screwed up, like you've never screwed up when cooking." Steve found himself shouting, uncertain how the fight had started and even more uncertain as to how to end it.

"Sure I've messed up a time or two, but I never just gave up on cooking the dinner like you did. When I somehow dumped that whole pan of vegetables on the floor, I made something else." Georgiana, too, wasn't sure how the fight had started, but did not like feeling like she was being attacked.

"Why don't we just go out to dinner for Mother's Day; I hate how stressed out you get about cooking. I'd rather have take out than to see you this stressed."

"Steve, that won't work. Everything is booked up for Mother's Day and any place that isn't will have more than an hour wait if it is any good. We can't do that. I don't want to have invited Aunt Catherine all this way just to make her wait for restaurant food and I can already see the looks and complaints your mother would make if she ends up having to stand for long with that hip. I just have to make dinner. Can't you be supportive for once?"

"I wish you wouldn't have invited your aunt if all that it is going to do is make you stressed out."

"This isn't about my aunt!" Georgiana roared. "This is about your mother and always having to do more than we should have to for her. She always causes an uproar with her demands and we always have to tip-toe around anything that might upset her. Look at us. She isn't even here and we are fighting because of her."

"No moms are perfect except for, I forgot, your saint mother. I hate to break it to you, but she can't be as perfect as you remember!"

"She wasn't perfect but she was better than your mom; even you've said it. She actually genuinely cared about us and did her best. She never treated me or my brother the way your mother treated you and your brothers."

Georgiana felt tears coming to her eyes as she started thinking about her mother. She knew she would cry sometime this Mother's Day weekend when thinking about her mother, but had not expected to start crying about her just in the middle of a fight with Steve. Although she tried her best not to cry, the tears bubbled up and out. She wasn't sure, though, if she was really crying about her mother, or crying about the fight, or crying over all the stress she was feeling. She thought about the previous Mother's Day and how much better it had been.

"My mother cares about me," Steve insisted, his eyes hard and dark. "She may be screwed up but if your mother had the kind of parents my mother had, she would be, too."

"But you let her do all this stuff to us. You let her bring all of her drama into our lives. She's never happy unless she is the center of attention."

Just then, ten-year-old Andy walked into the room, with five-year-old Josh right behind him. "Why are you guys fighting again?" Andy asked. "Is it Nana? Is she acting crazy?"

Steve took a deep breath and counted to ten before blowing it out. They had tried their best not to use words like "crazy" around their children when talking about Nana. He supposed that Andy had overheard them talking about the playground incident. Steve waited until he felt he could talk in a more calm tone. "Nana is being demanding as usual and stressing Mom out, stressing us both out."

"Why do you let her do that to you? I don't like it when you fight. Sometimes I wish Nana would just move away or we would just move away from her. Why can't we live closer to a beach or to Uncle Fitz?"

"Because our jobs are here. Nana needs extra help and that is what families do."

"Why can't she be a fun Nana, though? Why does she have to get mad at everything?"

Andy thought about how Nana seemed to always criticize his mom, even though his mom was a nice mom. Ian's grandmother who lived with them played board games and had taught Ian and Andy to play gin rummy. She let them watch the TV-14 shows while Nana had a scowling face when he watched the Simpsons with his family. Afterwards Nana had gone on and on about what an immoral show it was. She wanted to watch dumb rated G movies that were for little kids with them, like Lady and the Tramp. But Nana had said bad things about the kids at Josh's school.

"Nan's a hypocrite," Andy suddenly declared.

"Do you know what the word 'hypocrite' means?" Georgiana asked. While she did not like that her sons had overheard part of their conversation, when she had thought they were still playing in the fenced in back yard (Andy had made an obstacle course, inspired by watching American Ninja Warrior), she did like that the interruption seemed to have stopped their argument in its tracks.

"Yes, I do. It was in a book we read in school and the teacher put it on our vocabulary test, where we matched words to definitions."

"And why do you think it applies to Nana?" Steve asked.

"She tells us we need to be kind to everyone and wants us to watch dumb movies where only the bad guys say anything wrong, but then she calls Josh's friends mean names and wants him to go to a different, expensive school, but Daddy went to a bad school where he was one of only a couple of white kids."

"Nana must be bad guy," Josh announced to no one in particular.


	17. Not All Mothers Are Made Equal

**Chapter 17: Not All Mothers Are Made Equal; If You Are A Mother, Try To Be One Of The Good Ones.  
**

On Saturday, Richard noticed that Mary's phone was sitting on the coffee table when he returned from the bathroom. As Mary generally kept her phone in her purse, Richard knew that she was either actively texting with someone, waiting for a call, or waiting to call someone back. He wondered who else she was telling about the baby. While they had meant to tell only a few people, as they did not want to have to take it back later if things went wrong, they had both ended up telling more people than they initially planned.

"Oh good, Richard, you are back. I just got off the phone with Lydia."

"Was that really wise to tell her? I kind of doubt that she will be able to keep a secret from your mom. I thought we agreed and that you told your other siblings that she was not to be told."

"Oh, it wasn't about that but about the thing tomorrow for my mom. She decided to come at the last minute. She should be here at about seven tonight with the kids."

"Is her husband coming, too?" Richard looked a bit wary.

"No, he's not. But that reminds me, Lydia asked if she could stay with us tonight as she has no money for a motel as she had originally planned and reached the limit on her credit card. I need to call her and tell her if its okay. The Philips don't really want to host her again as their place is smaller and less kid-proof. If she has to stay with my parents, well that will mess up the surprise for my mom."

"Where would we put them?" Richard asked, his mind on the practical. He didn't particularly like Lydia, but he could put up with her for one night. "We only have a three bedrooms. I don't think either of the kids should have to give up their rooms."

"It is only for one night, though, and it will be an adventure for them. I was thinking we should have a little kids room in Lacey's room. The little girls can share Lacey's bed and we can move CB's toddler bed in there for the night. Then we can put the full sized blow-up bed in CB's room for the older boys. Lydia can sleep on the couch. Sharing a room might be good practice for later." Mary gave a little smile.

It took Richard a moment to understand that Mary was thinking of what they might do when their own baby arrived.

"I think that's an excellent idea." They exchanged smiles. Mary and Richard both delighted in the fact that they now knew each other well enough to not always need words.

About two and a half hours later, at about 7:45 p.m., when they were playing Candy-land with Lacey and CB (both children wearing their pajamas in preparation for their nearing bed time of 8:30), they finally heard the doorbell.

"Are the cousins here? Will we have our sleepover?" Lacey asked, excited. "Can I stay up late?"

Her father answered, "I'm pretty sure you are going to have to stay up for a bit tonight. Hopefully, after they hang out for an hour or so they'll be ready for bed."

Mary was not as hopeful, but she said nothing and just got up to open the door.

Lydia swept in with her usual drama. Her three children, George Jr., Lincoln and Lucy, all started speaking at once: George: "What's for dinner?" Lucy: "I'm hungry." "I need to go potty." Lincoln: "We haven't eaten since eleven." Lucy: "I ate old Cheetos in the van and I feel sick."

Lydia responded before Mary could, "Lucy, I told you not to eat those Cheetos; who knows how long they were sitting out there. Kids, your Aunt Mary will feed you, you just need to be a little patient. Mary, where's the bathroom?"

After Mary told her, she was surprised to see Lydia claim it first. There was another bathroom, but it was in their master bedroom. She escorted the youngest Wickham child to her own bathroom and asked, "Do you need any help?"

Lucy, who was either three or four years old (Mary couldn't quite remember) said, "I can do the poo-poo and the wiping, but I can't reach the sink."

"Okay," Mary told her. "I will help you with the sink when you are dressed again." As she waited, she mentally thought through what she had in her refrigerator. She hadn't realized (although she supposed she should have, knowing Lydia) that she would be expected to feed Lydia and her children.

When Mary got back with Lucy, she heard the other remaining children shouting out: "Cheese!" "Meatlovers!" "Breadsticks and sauce!" "Chicken wings!"

"I told them I would order them pizza," Richard explained.

"What a good idea!" Mary enthused, glad that things were well in hand. "What kind would you like, Lucy?"

"Pepperoni!"

"I want a deep dish; anything with lots of meat," Lydia announced happily as she emerged. "And do you have any Diet Coke?"

"Coke!" "Sprite!" "Orange Soda!" Lydia's children shouted out.

Mary got the impression that Lydia's children had learned they needed to be loud to be noticed. She asked Lydia, "When do your children go to sleep?"

"Oh, whenever," Lydia replied, seemingly unconcerned with the noise and chaos her children had brought to her sister's home. "Whenever they are tired enough."

"Well, Lacey and CB normally go down at 8:30. We are going to put ours and Lucy in the same room and put your boys in CB's room. As they are right next to each other, I am really hoping that your boys won't want to stay up too late, or if they do, they can at least keep it down."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Oh, the children are all too excited to go to sleep early. Don't be such a boring Mom; let them have a little fun."

Rather than argue, Mary asked Lacey and CB, "Are we done playing Candy-land?"

"Do you want to play Candy-land?" Lacey asked the new arrivals.

"I do!" Lucy responded.

Mary quickly started the game over with Lacey, CB and Lucy. Richard had finished ordering the pizza and it was left to him to find something to entertain the rest. That something else turned out to be cable T.V. as George Jr. explained, "We've had our cable shut off for a while and we've missed all our shows."

The pizza and assorted sides Richard ordered including two liters of soda turned out to be a big hit. Richard and Mary were both amazed by how much the Wickhams all ate, with even little Lucy eating two slices of pizza, four wings, three breadsticks and a huge bowl of ice cream.

In the end, Lucy wanted to go to bed when she heard that was what Lucy and CB were doing. Lacey and Lucy got ready together while Mary helped CB get ready. Mary was a bit surprized to find Lucy wearing one of Lacey's nightgowns. It was way too large on Lucy, but Lacey explained, "Lucy doesn't have her pajamas with her, so I shared." Mary was pleased that all three were in bed by nine.

Lydia and her older children were still up watching Comedy Central with their mom when the Fitzwilliams went to bed at around ten. Fortunately the boys weren't at all loud by that time. Richard opined to Mary when they got to bed, "Now that wasn't so bad. Who knew that all it took to keep kids quiet is stuffing them full of second and third helpings of pizza and a big screen T.V.?"

In the morning when Lacey and CB got up (Lucy was still sleeping), they found the two older boys sprawled out across the couch, asleep, with the T.V. still on. When they went in CB's room they found Mary's sister face down across the blow-up bed. She was still clothed and snoring loudly. There were several empty bottles on beer on top of CB's chest of drawers.

When CB (with Lacey's help), pulled one of his drawers open to get his pants, the drawer stuck a little and the chest of drawers moved just enough for the empty bottle that was closest to the edge to topple and shatter on the floor below. CB jumped and then fell down as he wasn't wearing his braces yet. Lydia did not stir.

Lacey helped CB up and with her help they walked over to Richard's and Mary's room. Lacey very politely knocked and Mary told them to come in.

"What was that noise, Lacey. Did you break a glass? I can help you clean it up."

"No, Mary. There are lotsa beer bottles in CB's room and one of them fell," Lacey explained.

"Oh, lord, were the boys drinking? I never thought to have your daddy lock up his beer." Mary got up and pulled her robe on over her night gown. She was glad she had remembered to put her night gown back on before she fell asleep.

"No, Mama, it your sissy," CB said, struggling to get the words out. "She sleep my room."

"I'll take care of it. Why don't you go play some more Candy-land and then I'll make pancakes."

Later that morning all the Wickham children got up. To Mary's dismay, only Lucy wanted to try orange juice and the buttermilk pancakes with fresh strawberries and whipped cream and the boys opted for cold pizza and flat soda instead. But again she told herself to let it go. It wasn't really her responsibility to worry about what they ate. Richard worked on the dishes while Mary helped CB get dressed.

When she finished, Mary noticed that all the Wickham kids were wearing the same clothes from the night before. When Mary asked them to shower and change for church, George told her, "We have more clothes at home but mom didn't bring them. Before we left Mom and Dad had a fight and so we just left without packing anything. I don't see the point of showering when I don't have anything new to put on." So in the end they didn't shower though Mary did find tooth brushes for everyone.

About a half hour before church Mary finally woke Lydia up. The plan had been for them to all go to church and surprise their mother there but Lydia said, "Let me sleep some more. Take the kids if you want. I'll see my mom when we all go out to lunch."

Mary had a hurried conference with Richard, "What are we supposed to do? I suppose we can all fit in the van but I can't really supervise her children when I am up there playing piano and their clothes are dirty and not really right for church. But I don't want to leave them all here, either, especially not Lucy while her mom is so hung-over."

"I doubt this us a novel event for them. Probably George and Lincoln watch Lucy all the time."

"Yes," Mary allowed, "but I'm not there then."

"I'll watch them then. It will be fine. God doesn't care what they wear to church (suffer the little children to come to me and all that), so why should anyone else? Besides, I doubt I will have to do much. The second your mom sees them she will monopolize them for sure."

Richard turned out to be right as always when it came to Mary's mom. It was awkward, though, when they were asked where Lydia was.

George once again spoke up. "Mom got hammered last night and is sleeping it off."

For once, Mrs. Bennet had nothing to say.


	18. Expect The Unexpected

_So I posted the last couple of chapters just in the past 24 hours or so, so make sure you are up-to-date before you read this chapter. Also, thank you to all my reviewers; I just hit 100 reviews for this story, which is great.  
_

**Chapter 18: Expect The Unexpected; How You Deal With It Will Show Your Worth.**

Mary should have been happy. She had successfully arranged to gather all her sisters and their families (save Catherine and her family as they were in Europe) for a special Mother's Day lunch at a private banquet room in a nice restaurant, which she had booked six months in advance. They certainly needed all the room with the Bennets, the Phillips, the Bingleys, the Fitzwilliams and most of the Wickhams in attendance.

Her mom was so happy and kept crowing to herself, "Just wait until Cheryl Lucas hears how all of my children and grandchildren surprised me for Mother's Day. Her children wouldn't do that for her!" While Mary noticed that her mother had either somehow forgotten about Catherine or was perhaps practicing the idealized version she would tell Mrs. Lucas, her neighbor for nearly forty years, the fact that her mother was happy should have been enough to make Mary feel that the day was a success.

However, Mary was troubled in observing Lydia and Lydia's children. While Lydia was not the only one having an alcoholic beverage with lunch (Charles and Richard each had a beer, Fitz had a glass of wine and her mother had a Long Island Iced Tea and then a Fuzzy Navel, apparently unaware that other mixed drinks had been invented since the 80s), Lydia was the only one to order four drinks in close succession and to slurp them down like ice water on a 100 degree day. Lydia's complexion was also sallow and somewhat mottled and her long sleeved shirt, one that Mary recognized as a favorite of Lydia's from several years before, hung on her.

While Lydia's children had healthier complexions than she did, there was also something off about them. When the bread first arrived, rather than each just taking a slice like everyone else, each child grabbed two or three slices and several wrapped pats of butter. At first she just attributed this to them having no manners.

When the menus were passed around, Mary heard Lincoln ask his mom, "Can I really order anything?"

"Of course you can, dear. Uncle Fitz is paying."

Lydia's children all ordered adult meals, with George Jr. helping Lucy to order. When the food arrived again they ate like they did not know when their next meal was coming even though they had eaten large quantities at breakfast.

Mary noticed something else about the children that she had not taken note of before. Although the children's clothing was rather big, which one might expect meant they needed to be grown into, their shirts well worn and stained. Every item looked like it was in need of a good washing. The children's arms seemed very skinny from where they stuck out of their t-shirts. While she could excuse this in the boys as she knew that rapidly growing boys might be skinny, she could not help but notice that little Lucy's arms were quite spindly and her cheeks looked hollow.

Mary did not like the conclusions she was coming to and her stomach felt tight. She had no desire to finish her salmon even though objectively she knew it was delicious. She pulled Richard aside outside after arranging that Aunt Philips would watch Lacey and CB.

Richard looked worried, "What is going on, Mary, are you not feeling well? Are you getting morning sickness?"

"It isn't anything like that. I am worried about Lydia and her children."

"Her drinking is certainly concerning. I remember her getting drunk at our reception, also, but she wasn't the only one. An open bar seems to have that effect on some. Has she always been this way?"

"I don't think so. She always was a party-er, but I thought she had settled down some after she had her children."

"If that is settled down, I don't want to see how much drinking your baby sister does when she really tries to thrown down. I would think she would be more circumspect in front of your mom."

"I am worried about the kids." Mary absently picked at her bangs and then lightly bit her finger. "What if she is neglecting them? Did you notice how skinny their arms are? Lucy is stick thin which isn't normal for a girl her age."

"How old is Lucy?" Richard asked.

Mary did some mental calculations and recalled that Lucy was born two years after Jane's twins. "Oh my God! I was thinking she was three or four, but I think she is five. She is tiny compared to Lacey and that doesn't make sense as their Dad is tall, not Fitz tall, but still tall, around your height, isn't he? and Lydia is the tallest of us Bennet women. Richard, what are we going to do?"

Mary was feeling overwhelmed. Here her household was growing by leaps and bounds and now it seemed like more children needed her, too.

"Well the first thing I think we should do is see if they want to spend another night as that will give us more time to figure out what is going on and what needs to be done about it."

Mary nodded, feeling a bit better as it seemed that Richard had an idea of how to proceed. But as today was Sunday . . . "But Richard, it is a school day tomorrow."

"I wouldn't worry about that, Mary. I have the feeling Lydia will be willing to have her kids miss a day or two of school if it means that someone else is paying for stuff for them. I heard your sister Jane talking earlier about how she wanted to get them some new clothes; maybe you can get her to follow up on that?"

"I'm sure she will if given the slightest encouragement. You know how kind-hearted Jane is. But she shouldn't be the only one to pony up."

"Put us down for half the cost," Richard responded, "but no more than three hundred."

"Okay, but how will that help? I mean I know they could use some clothes, but how will that help with figuring out what is going on with Lydia?"

"Well a shopping trip won't, unless Lydia feels like confiding in your sister, but I was thinking that if I arrange for us guys to take all the other kids to the park to give all the mothers a rest, it will give you the time to bring up the subject with the rest of them."

"Ugh, I guess, but what a lousy way to spend Mother's Day."

Mary pulled out her card and quickly texted Jane.

Mary:_ Can you take Lydia and her kids out to get some new clothes? We will pay for half, up to $300. I am super concerned about what is going on with the Wickham family and I want to use the time while you are away to talk to everyone about the situation. Richard plans to organize the dads to get all the kids out of the moms' hair so we can really talk._

Jane: _You noticed her drinking, too? _

Mary:_ Yup! She got wasted last night, too, while we were sleeping. I am worried she is neglecting her children; they look really thin and eat like they don't get enough food at home._

Jane: _Okay, I will talk to Charlie about it; I'm sure he will be fine with it._

Jane: _Just showed Lizzy our text exchange. She is worried, too. She is insisting that they pay for the clothes.  
_

Mary: _We can divide up the bill. That's not the important part. When you take them, try to get a good look at Lucy when she tries on things if that is not too weird. She seems awfully small to me for her age._

That evening, Richard watched with some worry as Mary paced and paced after the children were in bed. He knew that eventually she would be ready to talk with him but she had to work off some nervous energy. He was relieved that the Wickhams had ended up at the Bennets for the night.

"I take it, that it didn't go as well as you had hoped."

"Well, yes and no. My mom is in total denial that anything might be wrong. She says that Lydia is just a free spirit. She said she didn't want Lydia and the kids staying with us if we were going to be so critical. However, Dad noticed the same things that we did, but he wants to blame it all on George Senior. In the middle of this Jane texted me. Lydia had Lucy try on a ridiculous bikini type swimming suit. You know how much the rest of my sisters and I hate it when clothing designers try to make sexy clothes for little kids. Anyway, Jane snapped a picture of Lucy wearing it."

Mary showed Richard the picture of Lucy on her phone.

"Holy crap," he exclaimed. "She looks like the photos of those little kids in Africa with the bloated bellies and the spindly arms and legs. Now that I am seeing her like this, I can see that her head almost looks too big. Her hair hides it some, but her neck is so thin. She looks emaciated. There can't be any doubt about it; I think she is being severely neglected."

Mary covered her face with her hands and said between her palms, "I know. I feel so guilty as this didn't just happen now. It must have been going on for some time. You know, don't you, that Lydia regularly hits up Mom and all her sisters for money? I only recently started getting her texts asking for checks (I guess she figured I was too poor myself before I married you). I think Mom and Jane give her money pretty regularly. Elizabeth does sometimes, too, but said she'd been getting really fed up with Lydia being a freeloader and just quit sending the money about three months ago. She is super upset with herself now. I'll admit that when I've sent her money it hasn't been much. But do you suppose that their condition is our fault, that we should have sent what she asked for?"

Richard said, "Look at me, Mary."

She slowly uncovered her eyes and saw Richard looking at her with an expression of compassion. "Mary, you and your sisters did nothing wrong. Now did Lydia ever tell you that her children didn't have enough to eat?"

Mary shook her head "no." "Usually it was just comments about how George is such a bum and such. When she told me her electricity was about to be shut off, I did pay that, but I paid the utility company directly. Usually her requests seemed to be financing for various get rich schemes. Like she wanted to be trained in how to design websites because it was going to let her earn 100k a year. Can you imagine Lydia learning to design websites? There was some super expensive online course for it. I wouldn't pay for it and even my mom wasn't that dumb."

"Mary, if she is really so poor, why didn't she provide proof so that she could get the kids signed up for free breakfasts and lunches at school? Why didn't she go to a food bank? Why didn't she get on food stamps? There are lots of programs to try to help especially kids not go hungry. I have a feeling that either her situation was not that desperate, or she didn't bother to do the things she could to get them signed up for assistance, or she was spending her money on all the wrong things."

"You mean on get rich schemes?"

"Maybe, but what I am really starting to suspect is that she might be a junkie. How weird is it that she was wearing a long sleeved shirt during this heat wave? And she just looks bad, like she is about fifteen years older than the rest of you. A lot of people start out with pain pills and when the doctors stop prescribing them they move onto anything else they can get. One of the cheapest ways to get high is heroin. If she's on drugs, getting her fix will always be her first priority. I'm only surprised that social services hasn't gotten involved yet, or at least I don't think they have. If they had, those kids would be out of that home and in foster care and they'd be calling your parents, you and your sisters to see if you would take a relative placement."


	19. People Who Insult You

**Chapter 19: People Who Insult You Don't Deserve Your Respect.  
**

On Mother's Day morning, Georgiana got up early to start working on the beef stew so it could cook in the crock-pot and be ready for dinner at 2. When she was about half done, the beef cubes sizzling in the pan so the outsides would be browned while she chopped vegetables, her older son ambled into the kitchen.

"What are you doing up, Mom? It's your special day. Me and Josh were going to make you breakfast in bed."

Georgiana recalled the special breakfast in bed from two years ago, when Andy was eight and Josh three. It had been a bowl of cereal that had sat in milk too long. Probably her boys had poured it before they decided they needed to pick flowers from the garden to fill her vase.

She was pretty sure Andy had carried the tray up the stairs as she heard Josh yelling, "My turn!" and he was the one carrying it after they knocked and she told them to come in.

Josh had been struggling to balance the tray and as he set it down on her lap, milk had sloshed out of the overfilled bowl and onto her quilt. Luckily, Josh hadn't noticed and she didn't say anything about it as she didn't want him to feel bad. He was such a sensitive little boy then.

Georgiana had choked down a bite while they watched, doing her best to smile, and told them honestly enough, "You were both so nice to think of me. I love you so much!"

After the boys left, Georgiana told Steve (who had been struggling to hold back his amusement), "It is really awful. Still, I think I need to eat it as if I throw it out downstairs their feelings may be hurt."

Steve had bravely offered, "Oh lovely lady, it would be this lowly stable-boy's pleasure to eat the food that the lady of the manor hath rejected."

"Well commence at once," Georgiana played along, handing him the bowl.

"Yes madame, certainly." He hesitantly took a bite. From the face he made while eating it, Steve didn't really enjoy it either but Georgiana also thought he was exaggerating his sour face for affect. Steve had a very expressive face normally, however he often had a very bland expression when his mother was around. When Steve finished he commented, "That food was not even fit for madame's pigs."

It was then that it occurred to Georgiana that they could have just pored it into the toilet and disposed of it with a simple flush. Still trying to stay in character she asked, "Oh, lowly servant, if it was truly that atrocious, why did you not dispose of that offal in mine chamber pot?"

"Oh, madame, would that you would admit this lowly servant into your chambers that I might view your pot."

The words were all wrong but Steve managed to sound both beseeching and flirtatious. Then Steve groaned and held his belly in mock distress, making her laugh.

"Indeed if I thought that would have satisfied the lady of the manor, I would have done so. Have I earned the right to one of your kisses through my loyalty?"

He clasped his hands together, knelt down and raised his eyes to her. Of course she beckoned him closer for that requested kiss. This was the Steve that had captured her heart: the one that wasn't afraid to laugh at himself and liked to make her laugh, the one that was silly and sweet.

Steve then told her, "I know that wasn't much of a Mother's Day breakfast. I'll make sure to help them next time."

But Steve wasn't up yet and that had been two years ago. Maybe it had been an offhanded comment, forgotten minutes later, or even if he had meant it, maybe he forgotten when Mother's Day rolled around last year and there wasn't any opportunity to do it then. Georgiana hoped he had forgotten because the alternative was worse. She had a slight fear that their spat of the previous evening made him not want to help fix her breakfast anymore; how awful if that might be true!

Georgiana remembered that the flowers which Andy had taken off the tray and set on her nightstand two years prior, were dead the next day. She discovered then that the boys had neglected to put any water in them. Still, it was a nice and funny memory.

"Breakfast in bed sounds really nice, Andy," Georgiana told him, "but I need to finish working on the stew for our lunner."

"Lunner?"

"You know, a meal between lunch and dinner, like brunch is between breakfast and lunch." She remembered debating with Steve about whether such a meal should be "lunner," "linner," "lupper," "dunch," or "dinch." Steve had convinced her that it wasn't right to order dinner first as lunch came first and as they did not call their evening meal supper that "lupper" was out, but they had never decided whether it should be "lunner" or "linner" but she favored "lunner" for making the "n" from lunch do double duty with the first "n" of dinner. She thought such a word had never caught on because it sounded a lot less appealing than brunch, more like a suppository than a meal.

Andy crossed his arms in imitation of his dad. He looked just like she imagined Steve looked like as a boy, back when he was Stevie, save for Andy having darker hair, but she'd only seen a few pictures of Stevie. She had not liked the lost look in his eyes in those pictures.

Andy intoned in a Steve-like voice, "Don't change the subject. Dad should be making the stew and you should be in bed."

Georgiana didn't have an answer to that for a moment but then told him, "Maybe so, but Dad doesn't really cook. But he is really good about doing all the dishes and he cleaned the bathrooms last night, too, when we were baking the cookies." Then she turned back to chopping vegetables while Andy watched.

Georgiana felt a bit self conscious having Andy watching her every move. She stirred the second batch of meat cubes and then started chopping the celery. When she slid the last of the vegetables into the crock-pot and put on the lid, he asked, "Are you done yet?"

"Almost. I just need to clean up the scraps and wipe everything down."

"No, Mom." He got between her and the carrot and celery ends on the cutting board. He crossed his arms again and gave a stubborn look. "We can do that and clean the counter, too. You need to back to bed so you can have your breakfast in bed."

Georgiana noticed then that Josh had joined his brother.

When she hesitated, Josh gave her a little shove. "Go on Mom." Then oddly enough they followed her up the stairs as if forming an honor guard to escort her to her room. They even went so far as to open her door and then Andy said, "Get in bed, Mom."

So Georgiana got in bed. The boys kept watching as she pulled the sheet and quilt up.

"Go to sleep, Mom." Josh ordered. His tone sounded a lot like hers when she was trying to get him to stay in bed at night. Andy always fell asleep quickly at night while Josh was her jack-in-the-box kid, always popping out of bed.

Andy added, "Close your eyes; breakfast will be awhile."

Georgiana decided to play along and dutifully closed her eyes. However, she opened them just a crack when she felt the bed shake a little. She saw that Andy was trying to shake Steve awake.

"Wake up, Dad, you are supposed to help us cook Mom's breakfast."

Steve didn't stir for a bit and Georgiana could not decide whether Steve was messing around with them by feigning continued sleep or was just really tired. He had tossed and turned a lot last night, which had kept her up, too. Finally they got him up.

Despite some loud noises downstairs as her breakfast was being prepared, Georgiana surprised herself by falling back asleep. She was roused by the aroma of bacon and eggs and coffee as her boys entered her bedroom. Georgiana usually didn't allow herself to indulge in a big greasy breakfast, but this one was hot, ready and made by her favorite chefs, which made it even better. The kids even had a homemade card and a present. Georgiana felt she couldn't have asked for a better start to her day.

Everything was perfect, or at least seemed to be. That is until (after she ate, showered and dressed), Georgiana discovered to her chagrin that she'd forgotten to plug in the crock-pot. So rather than have time to do her makeup and a Sudoku puzzle or two, she had to try to catch the stew up to where it should be. She poured most of the contents into a large pot which she brought to a boil over the stove before poring its heavy contents back into the crock pot which was now plugged in and set to high. A little sloshed out of the pot, but she only had time to quickly wipe it as it was past time for them to leave.

They barely made it out the door and to church on time as naturally the kids didn't bother to put their shoes and socks on until Georgiana was trying to get them out the door. She had planned to do her make-up during the car ride there, but found out just after they pulled away that she had left her makeup bag at home.

However, she did have a comb in her hair so she wasn't completely bedraggled. She was content that it was a small price to pay to make sure there would be a meal ready as scheduled.

Everything seemed to have been set right with that little intervention and Georgiana was very grateful that she discovered her mistake before church and not afterward. However, Georgiana discovered how wrong she was when they were at church and listening to the sermon. The guest pastor's message didn't capture her attention and she found her eyes looking everywhere but where they were supposed to be focused. It was then that she noticed something brown on the skirt of her light blue floral dress. A purposeful perusal of the rest of it revealed that in addition to that stain she had a large brown blotch, about the size of a half dollar, higher up on her breast. It had the unfortunate placement of being on her left breast, very close to where her areola lay under her bra.

It was clearly from the sauce of the stew, likely a spill from when she was pouring it from the pot into the crock-pot and one that might have burned her if not for her bra. Georgiana recalled struggling with the heavy pot when she poring the contents and the last minute spill.

Georgiana wondered how on earth her husband hadn't noticed. She now recalled everyone she had shook hands with during the greeting time. This included the teenage boy that had smirked at her and the elderly man who seemed more solemn than usual, his lips pressed tightly together, who only nodded at her. It all made sense now.

The sermon ended and Georgiana dashed to the bathroom, or tried to. However, both of the single use bathrooms were occupied and she could hear someone throwing up in one of them. Likely it was the homeless man who often slept it off in the back of the sanctuary. Stymied, Georgiana went ahead and took communion, resolved to pretend that she didn't know about the stains.

The minute they arrived home from church, Georgiana rushed to change. She had barely gotten a different dress on before their doorbell was ringing. Again, there was no time for makeup, but she tried to be positive. At least Aunt Catherine hadn't seen her in the stained dress and the food would be ready on time.

When Georgiana opened the door, Aunt Catherine's driver (in his uniform), was already holding open the glass storm door for her aunt. Georgiana hadn't thought about the fact that her aunt would come with a driver and hurriedly asked him in as well.

"Mr. Stevens is fine waiting in the car." Her aunt answered for him.

"But Aunt Catherine, its a hot day and you've come for a long visit, haven't you?"

"Fine, I suppose he can come in," Lady Catherine allowed, "but you do not have to entertain him."

As Aunt Catherine swept in, looking perfectly put together as always, with her fine shantung silk dress, Christian Louboutin shoes, Burberry handbag and blonde hair that still managed to look natural and put together at the same time, Georgiana imagined what her home looked like to her aunt. She had avoided having her over before, as Georgiana was faintly embarrassed by her home and what it was not compared to how her aunt lived. It was an older painted brick home, a pretty typical three bedroom, two and a half bath, but two stories with the kids bedrooms downstairs and the master upstairs. How the rooms were laid out was always vaguely disappointing to Georgiana, though she knew in this neighborhood she was fortunate to have bought a house which was expanded to include a laundry room and half bath where the one car garage had been, and to have a separate carport added. Compared to Aunt Catherine's mansion it must look humble, ordinary, bland.

For not the first time, Georgiana wondered what she had been thinking in inviting her aunt to visit. She had not wanted her aunt to be alone for Mother's Day (if anyone could be truly alone in a houseful of servants). Most of the time Georgiana was perfectly content in her life with Steve and the children, but it was not an exaggeration that it was a more humble life than her parents had planned for her.

There had been a time in her life when she, too, had the finer things and had accepted it as just her right, with no particular concern for cost. So long as she was around people who had similar lives to how her own one was now, she didn't particularly feel the lack. But in seeing what Aunt Catherine had, well then she felt her lack strongly indeed.

Dotted around her home were items that Aunt Catherine had given her over the years, without any knowledge of how they would fit, and none exactly fit. There was the very expensive cappuccino maker that she didn't really have the counter space for and a landscape by a well known artist mounted on her living room wall on top of dull and peeling wallpaper.

Perhaps the most extravagant gift was the elaborate fountain Aunt Catherine had paid to get installed in her back yard. Currently Georgiana was embarrassed, knowing said fountain was choked with overgrown weeds. While Steve kept the grass mowed, he left the rest of the yard to her. Georgiana did not have the time to maintain the flower beds once the annuals that were planted around the fountain died in the winter. The enriched soil was now growing weeds. Georgiana had meant to dig it out and plant something new, but never seemed to find the time. She couldn't justify the cost of hiring anyone to do it for her.

Lady Catherine was not looking down at Georgiana's home as she feared. She was imagining Georgiana and her family and how they used the space. The smaller living room which had just a couch and loveseat would mean that the family was together there; the same was true of the dining room. The back yard visible through the sliding glass doors looked peaceful. While the kitchen was small, she imagined the meals that Georgiana prepared there. There were all sorts of personal touches that Lady Catherine had never allowed herself. Little piles of mail, bins of toys, nick-knacks on the shelves of the bookcase in front of the books, drawings and school-work on the fridge. It was a home, rather than just a house.

Although it was a bit awkward at first, finally Georgiana hit upon having Andy show Aunt Catherine his room and his snake. He was very proud of the little green snake he had caught the previous week, but as with most free and found pets the cost of getting the right set up for it was a lot more than Georgiana had anticipated. Georgiana had just expected Andy to take Aunt Catherine into his room to see it (they had talked before about not taking it out of its cage without making sure a guest would want a more up close and personal experience with it), but Andy didn't listen to that caution. So when Georgiana got back from directing Josh in setting the table (he had put the spoons where the forks should be), she was surprised to find Aunt Catherine sitting on her couch with the little green snake in her hand.

"Oh he is so smooth and soft, like butter," Aunt Catherine was telling Andy. She was holding the snake in a pinch grip with her left hand and the snake was intertwined around the fingers of that hand as she stroked along its back with her other hand. Georgiana was surprised and could not help but compare her aunt's reaction with that of her mother-in-law when she had met Avocado.

Sylvia had given a little shudder when Andy ran into the living room, holding the snake. "Get that thing away from me! I don't like snakes."

"But it is not venomous," he told her. "It is just a green snake. See, its eyes are round."

"I don't care."

It was this interaction which had prompted the, "No taking the snake out of its cage in front of a visitor unless the visitors asks" rule.

Aunt Catherine further surprised Georgiana when she started talking about the snakes she had found and kept when she was a child, though her parents had not let her keep any of them. "There was the ring neck snake, several garter snakes and I must tell you about the dusky pygmy rattle snakes I saw in Florida."

With a little prompting from Andy and Josh, Aunt Catherine told them, "I didn't know it was venomous and picked it right up. I was very fortunate that it wasn't particularly aggressive and did not bite. But when my father saw me holding it, why he turned pale and told me very quietly, 'Cathy, set the snake down now and slowly back away.' I obeyed him, of course, but I didn't really recognize the danger I had been in until when we were back in New York he bought me a book about snakes. It had a chapter which showed someone with a big dead chunk of arm from where a snake had bitten and also described people who had died."

"Cool," Andy responded. "Mom, do you think we can find a book like that?"

The visit was going so well that it was with a bit of a start that Georgiana realized it was almost one o'clock. "Don't you need to be going soon?" She asked Steve who was going to pick up his mom.

"Where is Steve going?" Aunt Catherine inquired. Bit by bit Georgiana relayed why Steve was picking up his mom.

"But if she can't drive, why doesn't she just Uber. Everyone used Uber these days!"

"She says she is scared to have strangers drive her," Steve responded.

"Has she never taken a taxi, or a bus?" Aunt Catherine asked. "Aren't those strangers, too?"

"She says those are professionals. But taxis are too expensive and there aren't any good bus routes between there and here." Georgiana responded, remembering how Sylvia stymied all their attempts to not have to pick her up when her hip was bothering her.

"Well then, why don't we just send Mr. James for her? He is a professional driver and I trust him completely; he has been in my employ for years."

Georgiana had forgotten all about Mr. James the driver who was sitting on an extra chair in the corner of the kitchen, reading.

Georgiana exchanged glances with Steve who shrugged. That was good enough for her to accept, but afterwards she made sure Steve texted his mother to tell her of the change. As they continued to visit, Steve kept getting dings as new texts came in. Steve's fingers were kept busy as he responded. He seemed to get grumpier and grumpier the more texts he exchanged.

"What is going on?" Georgiana finally couldn't stand it anymore.

"What's going on is that my mother cannot react like a normal person would." Steve responded. "I mean, she is about to get picked up in a Bentley and she is finding every which way to complain about it."

"Well is she coming or not?" Georgiana was getting fed-up.

"I think so."

"Well then can't you just put your phone to silent and ignore your texts? We have a guest and it shouldn't be all about your mom, once again."

"She's be even worse at dinner if I do," Steve told her.

Although Lady Catherine didn't comment, she did not like the picture she was getting of Georgiana's mother-in-law or the role she seemed to play in the Jones marriage. She had only met Sylvia Jones at their wedding and at the baby shower held before Andy was born. Neither time had she much cared for the woman, who seemed to want to shame her daughter-in-law and have all the attention placed on her.

Georgiana got up then. "I need to start working on the biscuits."

"Can I help you, dear?" Aunt Catherine asked, wanting to support Georgiana who visibly appeared to be angry.

"Sure, Aunt Catherine." Georgiana was surprised that her aunt would want to help in the kitchen, but she was not going to turn her away. Aunt Catherine, after she had put on an apron (fortunately Georgiana had a couple although she rarely used them, though today would have been a good day to use one apparently), willingly went to work grating the cheese while Georgiana measured the dry ingredients. As Georgiana knew they would, they talked.

"It looks like you have put together a good life for yourselves," Aunt Catherine began.

"Yes, pretty much I am happy with it," Georgiana responded, "but dealing with Steve's mom has been a bigger challenge than I could have ever anticipated. I mean, she treated him and his brothers so awfully when they were kids that pretty much the other two have nothing to do with her."

"In what way?"

Georgiana found herself confiding in her aunt, who said little but for asking questions. After the biscuits were cooking in the oven and the timer set, Georgiana found herself asking, "What should we do?"

"That is not something that I can answer for you, as you are the ones who will have to live with your actions. This is not just normal mother-in-law stuff, but it sounds like part of what attracted you to Steven in the first place is what a kind person he is, and it isn't right to expect that he is not going to be that same type of person toward his mom."

"It is just that I don't like what it is doing to him, to us, to the kids. Like last night we were arguing about all this passive aggressive stuff she was doing. Anytime before she comes over I always get so tense and Steve does too as it is like having an active volcano visit. You never know when it is going to blow. We end up picking at each other and she always seems to think we are having marital problems but it is really about her. I find myself carefully weighing every word I speak. I become a bland and less interesting version of myself because giving opinions of any kind in front of her is risky."

"Well, I would not want to see that happen," Aunt Catherine allowed.

At the end of their conversation, Georgiana knew she hadn't solved anything but felt a little better having confided in her aunt. She checked on the stew, turning the crock-pot to warm and checked the time. It was a little after two and Mr. James should have been back with Sylvia by now.

By two-fifteen, Josh had said he was hungry about three times and Georgiana was getting tired of telling him that they would eat soon. Finally she asked Steve, "At what point should we give up on waiting and at least feed the kids?"

"I don't know," he told her.

"I'm hungry," Josh said yet again.

"Go ahead and eat a banana," she told him, "and you, too Andy, if you want to." The kids trotted off to the kitchen.

By two-thirty, Steve was getting visibly tense. "Where is she?" Georgiana finally asked, voicing what they were all wondering. Steve checked his phone and then sent a text.

"She says she had to go pick up some things."

"Is she shopping? Is Mr. James driving her right now? She knows we were supposed to eat at two." Georgiana was confused.

Aunt Catherine pulled out her own phone. "Oh, Mr. James texted a few minutes ago. He begs our pardon but Mrs. Jones was very insistent that she needed to stop at the store for a few items. She was very insistent on She gave him a list but no money. He assumes that he will be reimbursed (of course he will, I will take care of it if need be), and is doing his best to get it done expeditiously. She offered to have him take her home for the money, but knowing how much later that would make them, he went ahead and "

"I don't believe this!" Steve said to no one in particular. "She's probably making him buy those items she tried to get us to get for her. She knows she's supposed to be here at two."

"I just feel like starting," Georgiana said to Steve. He didn't respond and no one moved toward the table. "If she is not here in the next five minutes I am going to go ahead and feed the kids."

"Okay," Steve told her.

The five minutes rolled around and Georgiana went ahead and dished up the stew and biscuits for the kids. The children dug in eagerly. After they had finished eating when Sylvia and Mr. James finally arrived. Georgiana couldn't help but notice that there was nothing in the way Sylvia walked to indicate that she was having any problem with her hip today.

Georgiana was angry but she said in the most pleasant voice she could muster, "I am glad you are here now. We went ahead and fed the kids as they were too hungry to wait."

"I hope I didn't cause any trouble," Sylvia told them, firmly sticking on this visit to the role of sweet grandmother. "I thought that it would be most convenient for you if I got things done with Mr. James rather than half to ask for your help later. You are both so busy with the boys. Mr. James was so kind and helpful. Mr. James, you must sit down with us and eat dinner after all of your hard work."

Mr. James looked quickly at Lady Catherine and then responded, "I thank you, but this is a family event and I do not wish to intrude. I shall sit out on the porch if you don't mind, and give my own mother a call." Georgiana rather fancied that Mr. James was glad to make his escape as he seemed all too aware of the tension.

They quickly assembled around the table and Georgiana dished up the stew and then brought the basket with the biscuits she had covered with a towel in a futile attempt to keep them warm, to the table. By Sylvia's place, she had already placed a couple of slices of gluten-free bread. Georgiana felt resentful over having to purchase that bread, what with it costing about six dollars and not being anything she particularly wanted to eat.

Steve announced, "Mom, the biscuits are made with flour so Georgiana got you gluten-free bread." That was about the only comment Steve made over dinner. While Georgiana contributed when she was directly addressed, she and Steve were mostly silent through the dinner, while Sylvia talked and talked, with Aunt Catherine making an occasional contribution. Georgiana noted sourly that Sylvia seemed to be in a great mood and also to have no awareness of how tense she and Steve both were.

When dinner was almost over, Georgiana couldn't help but notice that Sylvia had not touched the gluten-free bread and even more annoyingly had just grabbed a biscuit. "Oh, I just can't resist your biscuits, Georgiana," she said as she popped a chunk in her mouth. "I know I shouldn't but, gluten-free bread is just so bad."

Georgiana stared on in astonishment as her mother-in-law ate three biscuits in quick succession. She thought about the gluten-free pie she had purchased for her mother-in-law, which seemed likewise destined to go uneaten. She was glad she hadn't spent the time in making these things, but couldn't help but add up the almost twenty dollars she had wasted.

Unable to resist, Georgiana commented, "When someone goes to all the effort of getting something special for you per the dietary restrictions you have laid out, it is rather rude to then spurn that food."

Sylvia responded, "I told you not to go to any trouble for me."

Georgiana tried to mentally run through the long list of texts that Sylvia had sent Steve. She was pretty sure that if her mother-in-law had said that, there would have been no need for her to say she had gone gluten free or to ask for her to go to the store for her.

Steve surprised her then by saying, "Mom, you are _nothing_ but trouble and you enjoy seeing how many hoops you can get us to jump through."

"I knew you shouldn't have married _her_; she has really turned you against me, the little bitch!" Sylvia glared at Georgiana with an expression of loathing.

Suddenly Andy and Josh, who had been playing in the other room, ran in and flanked their mom.

"Are you okay, Mom?" Andy asked.

There was suddenly a loud throat clearing from Aunt Catherine. She sat up straight and in her most authoritative tone she proclaimed, "Mrs. Jones I am shocked and astonished. How dare you insult my niece and in her own home! I am almost the nearest relation she has in the world and her concerns are mine. She is not to be trifled with. This is not to be borne. I never heard of such a thing!

"In my day we were taught to always treat our hostess with the utmost of respect and is not a daughter more precious still? I can only suppose, Mrs. Jones," somehow she made Sylvia's name a term of disdain, "that you never had the benefit of steady and regular instruction in how to conduct yourself and have wallowed in ignorance all of these years. Tell me, Steven, how is it that you gained proper manners when your mother must have neglected to impart them?"

As if his was the part in some bizarre play, Steve replied, "It was certainly very difficult, Aunt Catherine."


	20. You Are Capable Enough

_I was scrolling through the story and found a couple of inconsistencies which I will fix later today, so for anyone who noticed in Ch. 12, it said in that Lydia married George Wickham at age 16 because she was pregnant but in Ch. 5 it is said that Lydia has the birth control implant (which is birth control that is 99% effective and eliminates user error), so she shouldn't have been able to get pregnant. However, in looking into this further, the birth control implant really wasn't available then, though the shot was. I have changed Ch. 5 to her birth control being the pill and in Ch. 12 will mention that she had a still birth (because George, Jr. would be too old for the current story-line to work). The still birth will be discussed in more detail in this chapter. Originally I had planned to have only one more chapter, but after this one, I think there will be two more._

**Chapter 20: You Are Capable Enough To Take On Any Challenge.**

Fanny Bennet was worried. On Mother's Day evening, or rather at about 2 a.m. the following morning, she had gotten up to have a little snack. She did not sleep as well as she used to and sometimes a little something in her stomach helped her to settle back down again. She supposed also that all the excitement was making it hard to go back to sleep. It had been such a wonderful day until Elizabeth and Mary had ruined it with trying to point out everything that was wrong with Lydia. Perhaps Lydia's life had not turned out as perfect as theirs, but Lydia was still trying to find out her exact purpose. Fanny saw herself in Lydia; she, too, had been a bit aimless, but having children had settled her down more than it seemed to have done for Lydia. But now, having thought about it more, perhaps their concerns had some merit.

Fanny had been excited to have Lydia and her children stay in her home. She never got enough time with her baby and the children were getting so big. It had been awful to have to marry her off at 16, but she could completely appreciate how Lydia had fallen for George. He was so handsome and friendly and even acted a bit flirty with her (though of course as an old married woman she had known he didn't mean a word of it, but still it had been flattering).

Fanny had hoped that theirs would have been a grand love story, but then unfortunately it had all gone wrong with the first George Jr. having died while still in the womb, necessitating Lydia having to be induced to bear him after he was already gone. Fanny had been by Lydia's side for the induction and of course she had opted for the epidural, but George Sr. had been nowhere to be found. Lydia had made excuses for his absence, telling her mother, "George is awfully cut up about it. He did so want to be a father." Then oddly, she told Fanny, "He just loved how huge my tits got and wanted to be on one side while I nursed George Jr. on the other side, but now that is not to be."

Fanny had expected Lydia to be more upset than she appeared to be, but of course one does not demand from one's child who is going through something like this, "Why are you not more upset?"

It had been odd when she and the nurse were telling Lydia to push that rather than being able to say, "You're baby will be here soon," or "You are almost a mother now," that they had to say things like, "You are doing well," and "Keep at it and soon it will all be over."

Later, after the first George Jr. was born and Lydia held his still form she did seem sad. "He is a perfect little doll, Mom. How could it all go so wrong?" She cried for a few minutes then.

Afterwards Lydia handed him over to her mother. Fanny held her first grandchild tight and shed a few tears over him. Even though his skin was very thin and his head a bit misshapen from the birth, Fanny could see her own Lydia in him. It felt wrong for him to be so still, as if all the alarms should be blaring, medical personnel should be swarming and someone should be doing that two-finger CPR on him. Fanny knew she was a bit relieved for Lydia to not have to be a mother so young, but that was not something she would ever tell Lydia.

Fanny remembered how when Lydia had first told her that she was expecting and that George was the father that she had told Lydia,"You are too young to be a mother. You aren't even sixteen yet. I cannot believe how that man took advantage of you. But it doesn't have to ruin your life. I am not too old to raise another child. Let me do this for you; Dad and I can adopt him and then your life can be yours again."

Lydia had shook her head and said something that had shaken her mother to the core. "Why would I waste all my efforts that way? I didn't just forget a pill, Mother; I stopped taking them. I want to have George's baby; that will make him stay with me. If you want to help me, make sure that George marries me."

A few minutes later after the baby's little still form had been taken away by the nurse, Lydia's thoughts were all back on his father. She said, "George says having a baby can ruin a woman's pussy, but if I had to lose George Jr. I am glad it was while he wasn't full-sized as I didn't tear or anything, so hopefully George won't be too disappointed when we get back to it."

"You do know that the doctor said to wait for six weeks, right?"

"Yes, of course. Healing time and all that."

"Maybe you should get the shot. It is all too easy to forget about the pill. Maybe, even with how awful this has all been you can have another chance at being a kid again. You could come home if you want; you don't have to stay married."

Lydia had looked at her as if she were crazy. "I like being an adult. George and I get to do what we want. Why would I give that up? I don't want the shot; I've heard it can make you get fat."

"Still, don't forget to take that pill. I think you will have a lot more fun if you aren't tied down with children yet."

"Oh, for sure. George and I had a lot more fun before I got too big. I always make sure my man is well satisfied."

Fanny had been glad when it was a few more years before the current George Jr. had arrived. He was almost done with middle school, but the baby who had died would have been an adult by now.

As Fanny munched the handful of cereal she had grabbed from the bag in the kitchen, she noticed the dull roar of the T.V. and went to see if her grandsons were still up. They were still on the couch, but they were both asleep.

In looking at the current George Jr., Fanny recalled his birth. Again, she was the one in the labor and delivery room and George Sr. was nowhere to be found, again Lydia had the epidural. But this time, there was excitement rather than sorrow, there was anticipation for the moment of birth. Fanny had been able to urge Lydia on (as she helped pull her leg up and out as the nurse had instructed), "Your baby is almost here, you are doing a great job, you are going to be a mother soon." And when George had been born, Fanny had stared at him (while Lydia rested, eyes closed), noticing his first little wiggles and waited, waited for his first squall. It had been such a relief, such a thrill, such a privilege to be there for that.

Later when she has held him, Fanny looked at his face for a resemblance to his dead brother but could not see one. She was a constant companion to Lydia in the hospital room.

After Lydia had gone home with George and the baby (he had visited a couple of times but had not impressed Fanny with any seeming deep love for his son or his wife), Fanny compared the pictures she had taken of her dead grandson (Lydia and George Sr. had not wanted them, both seemed to want to act as if he has never existed, but Fanny had kept the pictures in a drawer) to the fresh print-outs she had just made of the new baby. She did not see much of a resemblance. While the first baby had favored his mother, this one had much more of the look of his father.

Now looking at George Jr. and Lincoln sleeping on the couch, she could not help but be reminded of that little baby's face, who had almost seemed to be sleeping, too.

When Lydia and her children came over with bags from having shopped with Jane, they all seemed to be in a good mood. The boys took turns showering and changed into their new clothes and each came out of the bathroom holding their old clothes. "Do you want me to wash them?" she had asked. Really, she wanted to throw them out and was hoping to get permission to do so.

"That's be great, Grandma!" George told her, "I usually have to do the laundry."

"For yourself? Because you are thirteen, almost fourteen now?"

"No, for everyone. Of course it works better when there is laundry detergent. There hasn't been any laundry detergent for a while." And then before she could follow up on that statement, he added, "These new clothes feel so nice and soft. Do you have fabric softener? We hardly ever have any."

Later, she asked if they were going to throw their old shoes out. George answered for the both of them, "No, we had better keep them."

She remembered that when she and Tom had gone to bed that the boys were both still wearing their new shoes. Lincoln had been very excited by the new Nike shoes his Aunt Jane purchased for him, by all his new stuff. He was decked out in Nike gear from head to toe. He kept saying, "The kids at school are never going to believe I have Nike shoes and Nike stuff. Name-brand stuff, finally! I never have to wear those old worn out shoes again."

George had not seemed impressed and said, "You should have gotten Sketchers like I did. Don't say I didn't warn you."

The comment had struck Fanny as odd.

But then Lincoln said, "These shoes are never leaving my feet" and apparently he meant it literally for when Fanny was off to bed she asked, "Don't you want to take your shoes off and stretch your feet?" he replied, "No way!" and almost protectively placed his shoes feet onto the couch.

Fanny had wanted to tell him that shoes shouldn't be on the couch, but something in how he rubbed his fingers along the swoosh so lovingly had stopped her. She had justified it to herself that as the shoes were new they couldn't be too dirty.

But now, in the glow of the T.V., Fanny noticed that while George still had his shoes on, that Lincoln's shoes weren't on his feet, but neither were they right next to the couch. Fanny had an odd urge to search for the missing shoes, which she dismissed as it was late and she didn't want to turn on the lights. She debated turning off the T.V. but decided to leave it on. Maybe the white noise was helping them to sleep. She assumed that Lydia was asleep in her old bedroom, but in this she was mistaken.

Early the next morning, Fanny awoke at around seven to some noise her grandsons were making. There was a shuffling sound and some running feet. After Fanny put on her robe and ventured out, she found Lincoln looking through a shopping bag and then under the furniture while George sat calmly on the couch watching T.V.

"Why aren't you helping me look?" Lincoln demanded.

"What's the point?" George replied. "You aren't going to find them."

"But I only had them one day, usually she doesn't take them so fast."

"I warned you," George said evenly.

"What's going on?" Fanny asked her grandsons.

"Mom is gone," said George, "and she took most of Lincoln's new clothes."

Fanny was confused. "What do you mean gone? And why would she take Lincoln's clothes?"

"Can I tell her?" Lincoln asked.

George just shrugged.

Lincoln said, "Mom took them, she takes anything good I get. She sells or trades it, to get drugs. She took the bike you got me last year for Christmas and afterward was gone for two days."

"Your mom is doing drugs!?" Fanny couldn't believe it. Sure, Lydia had too much to drink yesterday, but that was just Lydia. Drugs were something else entirely.

"Yes," George said, "she does it all the time. Her and dad both. That's why they can't keep jobs."

"She likes the sniffing kind best," Lincoln revealed. He continued to give various details, going through each and every kind of drug his mother liked to take, which included, "the pill kind" "the cigarette kind" ("joints" George contributed) and "the pipe kind." It seemed to Fanny as if now that the dam was broken it could be contained no longer. Finally Lincoln discussed what his mother did when she couldn't get those. "When she can't get those, she gets the needle kind. We've been really broke lately so she's been using the needle kind a lot."

George added, "I really don't like it that she is using needles. Those things are dangerous. Lincoln and I know enough to stay away from them and we tried to tell Lucy to keep away from them, too, but one time I got home from school and found Lucy playing with one of the syringes while Mom was passed out on the floor, the armband still half wrapped around her arm. It really scared me as I didn't want her to stick herself and get sick."

"So you think your mom took Lincoln's clothes-"("And shoes!" Lincoln piped up)-so that she could get high?" Fanny asked.

"Why else would she and Lincoln's clothes be gone?" George answered.

"At least she didn't get the ones I am wearing," Lincoln consoled himself.

"I'll share what I can with you," George told him. "You can have half of the t-shirts, I got cheap ones on purpose, and at least she didn't take your jeans. Keep wearing the clothes you have on. Tomorrow take extra clothes to school and keep the Nike outfit at school."

Fanny excused herself and had a long talk with Tom, who had woken up by now. When Fanny had told him all that she had learned, it seemed to her that he aged right before her eyes.

"We can't let those children go home with Lydia," Tom told her. Fanny had already come to that conclusion herself, but she felt better having Tom confirm it.

Later, Tom and Fanny talked to the kids about it. He told them, "I think you should stay with us for a while. Maybe we can get some help for your mom."

George and Lincoln seemed skeptical, but did not particularly object.

When Lydia stumbled in at around eleven, she seemed to know the jig was up and eager to get out of there before anyone could confront her about it. "Okay, kids, say goodbye to Grandma and Grandpa; it is time to go home now."

"You aren't going anywhere with these kids," Tom asserted.

"You have a problem, Lydia. We can take you to the emergency room and then they can help you detox and then get into treatment." Fanny added. Tom had made some calls and been advised this was the best approach.

As Tom and Fanny continued to say what Lydia should do, first Lydia laughed and then she got mad and then she said, "If you think you can do a better job raising my kids, have at it." She stormed out and when Tom and Fanny ran out, they watched in astonishment as Lydia drove away. Her vehicle was weaving and hit the fence.

"Okay, she has got to stop now," Fanny commented. Burt Lydia did not. She backed the car up, part of the chain-link fence still caught up the vehicle and then drove off, pulling part of the fence with her.

Later, Fanny called Mary up and told Mary all that occurred. "When she hit the fence I thought she would stop, but she did not. I was really worried that she would crash. Thank goodness the children were not with her, but I am still wondering, should I have called the police to report an intoxicated driver?"

"Oh, that's awful!" Mary responded. "But Mom, as horrible as it all is, still, it is good they told you. Richard said he was worried Lydia might be doing drugs, but I really hoped he was wrong. I guess we should have just asked the children what was going on with her, but I never thought she'd be so blatant about illegal stuff."

"Mary, I can't believe that any of this is happening. It is like from a bad T.V. movie of the week. Do you remember those?"

Before Mary could answer, her mom continued and as she spoke on her words got faster and faster, and spoken in a more frantic tone. "Now I don't know what to do. Should I call social services? What if she comes back? What if she doesn't come back?"

"Slow down, Mom, one thing at a time. So the children are with you and Dad?"

"Yes, but I can't really have them stay here, can I? It is one thing to have children come for a visit and another thing to have them just here indefinitely. I mean I just retired."

"You don't have to decide that now. Can you take care of them for a few days? Is there anything you need for them?" Mary asked.

"Of course I can take care of them for a few days." Her mother sounded insulted. "I raised all of you, didn't I? But shouldn't they be back in school? There is a lot of the school year left. If only it was summer."


	21. You Must Let Children Grieve

_Last chance to tell me whether Mary should have a boy or a girl and what the name should be as we will find out the answer in the next and final chapter._

_Here is a last shout out to all my fabulous reviewers of Chapters 13-20: Sooty85, RegencyGirl17, DW.618, ANovick, liysyl, Jansfamily4, Guest(s), Ann, IsAndia, nanciellen, mariantoinette1, krimpetgirl, abujoe, and MerytonMiss. You've been awesome and often something in one of your reviews made me think about the story in a different way and ended up influencing what came next. I hate to break up the party in a couple of chapters, but that's just how it goes.  
_

_Finally, I am planning to revise this story into a non-Pride and Prejudice version of novella length (my husband wants me to enter it into a contest and for that purpose it is better if it isn't fan fiction). I feel this is fairly workable as Elizabeth and Darcy are not central to the story and I can revise enough about the other characters to make it work. Any revision advice would be appreciated._

**Chapter 21: You Must Let Children Grieve But Also Let Them Know They Are Not Alone  
**

Lacey was having a bad day, or rather a bad weekend, or rather a bad couple of weeks, or rather several bad months which had begun with the death of her mother. But the reminders of Mother's Day were only making it worse and those reminders were all around her. In school, they had crafts to make gifts for mothers. Lacey could not help but remember the previous Mother's Day crafts she had made for her mother. There had been the school crafts and the special card at Aunt Catherine's. She eventually was able to give them to her mother the next month.

While this year the teacher said they could make the crafts for anyone and (while looking at Lacey) suggested grandmothers, step-mothers and any significant woman in their lives were appropriate also, all of the other children besides Lacey in her second grade class were making their crafts for their mothers (though a few were also making extra crafts for grandmothers or step-mothers). Everyone had a mother besides Lacey.

Lacey would have made something for Mommy, to put on her grave if Mommy had a grave, but there was no grave. She tried making crafts for her grandmother and Mary, but it just didn't seem right. Before leaving school on Friday, she stuffed her completed crafts in the garbage can.

Lacey knew about orphans from having seen a version of Annie and knew she wasn't an orphan because she had Daddy, but she knew that she was sad and those orphans who sang and danced were too happy with their lot in life. Unless of course they were pretending to be happy.

Lacey knew all about pretending to be happy. She did not want Daddy or Mary or Charlie to feel bad that she was sad. Lacey knew that her mom had not always been nice to Daddy; that was why they had gotten a divorce. She also knew that Mommy should have made Charlie with Daddy and not that other man.

Daddy was happier with Mary and Lacey did like Mary and was happy that Daddy was happy, but it made Lacey feel more alone with being sad. The wedding had been so pretty, like the happily ever after scene in a fairytale, like when Prince Adam married Belle and she became a princess, too. She loved being a flower girl and dropping all those rose petals and getting to see Mary and Daddy kiss, and getting to ride in the carriage.

Lacey was upset when Mommy never came to get her, but had forgotten all about it when she learned she would get to go with Daddy and Mary on the honeymoon. She had so much fun getting to have a sleepover with them and watch a movie in the nice hotel.

Lacey expected Mommy to come get her the next day (sometimes that happened). She had not expected Daddy and Mary to get those calls and look at her with that expression. She hadn't known the word for the expression they had at the time, but had learned it this year at school. It was "pitying"; that was the look they had. There was also "regret" and a little bit of "sad" but when they told her what had happened, she understood that it was mostly her that was sad and not them. If they were sad it was because she was sad and they were sad for her.

All the fun had ended then. They drove to Uncle Charlie's house and no one really talked while they drove. She held the set of Barbies in her hands (it was the set with a groom Ken, bride Barbie with Stacie and Chelsea dressed up as flower girls, Aunt Catherine had given it to her to keep after Daddy and Mary got engaged) and wondered if there were black clothes for Barbie, funeral clothes. Then later, they drove back to the house where Mary now lived.

In movies, when someone died everyone else dressed in black clothes and went to the cemetery and it rained. Lacey wondered who would buy a black dress for her. Mommy would want her to be dressed right for her funeral.

But then Lacey realized Mommy wouldn't actually see if she dressed right for her funeral or not. Mommy would be inside that big rectangular box and still. Her eyes would be closed and she would be beautiful like Snow White (or really like Ariel with her red hair), but unlike Snow White a kiss would not wake her up. No one had cursed her. A man had drank too much beer and crashed his car into hers.

Mommy had been driving to get Lacey. If Mommy hadn't been driving to get her, Mommy would not have died.

In the end, though, Lacey had not worn a black dress to the funeral because there was no funeral. Instead there was a memorial service which Mary explained was like a funeral but there would be no box. "But then where will Mommy be?" Lacey asked, confused.

"Your mommy wanted to be cremated. Do you know what that means?"

Lacey shook her head. She did not know.

Mary got Daddy. It was clear that "cremated" must be something really awful if Daddy had to be the one to explain it to her.

Daddy came into the room and sat next to Lacey on the couch. He turned so that he could look at her and said, "Mommy did not want to be buried. She told me, and your Uncle Charlie and Aunt Louisa, too, that she did not want to rot in a box in the ground. She wanted everyone to remember her like she was in her photos, very pretty. Cremated means that a body is burned very hot until it is just ashes. Then the ashes can be put in an urn or in a little cemetery plot or scattered somewhere."

This was reminding Lacey of something, something that she wasn't supposed to learn about yet but that she had heard some older kids talking about while waiting for a school assembly to start. Something bad that had happened to people called Jews a long time ago, way back in the last century, maybe even before Daddy had been born.

"But Hitler burned the Jews up in ovens. Is that what is going to happen to Mommy?" Then she remembered something else she had heard about people in ovens, from church. "Or is it like those three guys in the Bible who wouldn't bow down to false gods and were put into an oven to burn but the angel rescued them? Is God just going to let Mommy burn up?"

Lacey was picturing people being stuffed into an oven like the one in her kitchen. How could a person fit in there?

Daddy gave a little sigh. Lacey had heard this sigh before. It meant that Daddy needed to explain something complicated to her but was trying to figure out how best to tell her. He gave a sigh like that when he had to explain about him and Mommy getting a divorce and when he had to explain about Charlie being her brother but not Daddy's son.

"Lacey, because Mommy died, nothing that happens to her body can hurt her. Remember how we talked about how what is important about us is the soul? It is what makes us who we are. It is like the body is an envelop and the soul is the letter inside it. The important part of your mommy is eternal and isn't here anymore. What Hitler did to the Jews was wrong. He had them murdered because he did not like them and wanted to blame them for all of Germany's problems. The burning of their bodies afterwards was bad, but the hurting them and killing of them was far worse. But they did not go into those ovens alive like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, but they were being killed for their beliefs like them. Mommy wasn't scared of being cremated. It is what she chose for herself, for when she was gone. Everyone dies. Dying is a part of life."

Lacey thought about that for a moment. She knew about dying. If she squished an ant it died. But there were so many ants that it didn't really matter. She caught fish with Daddy and even after they were out of the water for a while they would still flop around. They had to kill them to cook and eat them. But she had never really thought about the fact that someday everyone she loved would die and she would die, too.

Lacey shared her most immediate concern. "You aren't going to die soon, are you Daddy? I don't want to be alone."

"I wish that I could promise you that I won't die soon," he told her (Lacey appreciated that Daddy wasn't lying to her like he could have to try to make her feel better), "but I can't control the future. I don't have any reason to think I will die soon, but disease and accidents can happen. But we can also do our best to take care of ourselves so we don't get hurt. Like I take you to the doctor, and we wear seat belts in the car. I hope I will live a long time and get to see you grow up and get married, and have children, and see those children grow up too. But even if something were to happen to me, there are so many people that love you, you could never be left alone."

Lacey scooted herself onto Daddy's lap. She didn't do that much anymore, she knew she was getting too big for that, but right now it seemed very important to be as close to Daddy as possible, to feel his warmth, to feel his breath, to smell his scent. Daddy always smelled like coffee. When she visited Mommy and was missing Daddy she would go smell Mommy's coffee and it made her feel safe.

When they went to Mommy's memorial service it wasn't like she imagined it. First of all, while she wanted a black dress, there wasn't one in the store that Aunt Megan took her to in the mall. The saleswoman was apologetic but said that it was the wrong season for black dresses. All the dresses were bright and cheerful. It seemed no one thought about the fact that a child might need a black dress after someone died.

The best they could find in all the stores in the mall was a dark blue dress with a design of small white flowers which Aunt Megan seemed to think would be fine. Aunt Megan got her white fancy lacy socks that folded down, but Lacey insisted on black shoes and luckily those were easier to find. They also managed to find hair clips with black bows, but they were not a solid black; they had little white polka-dots. Aunt Megan thought that was okay, too.

On the day before the memorial service, she, Mary and Daddy drove out to Uncle Charlie's house so they could be on time to the service in the morning. Her cousins did not seem like they were sad at all and did not understand why Lacey did not want to play with them.

In the morning, Mary helped her get on her dress and fix her hair. Lacey looked at herself afterwards in the mirror. At that moment she did not like her red hair. She wished she had a hat or a veil or something to cover her hair, or that her hair was black. She felt her hair made her look too cheerful.

They arrived at the church early. It was a church like any other. The only difference was that at the front there were some pictures of Mommy and some different displays of flowers. Lacey recognized one of the pictures as being one that Mommy took at the same time as the pictures with Mommy and Lacey. Mommy had the smile on her face she made when talking with a handsome man and in the picture it looked like she had just tossed her hair. Lacey remembered that Mommy had liked the photographer that took their picture and had lingered talking to him afterward.

Aunt Jane wanted to take a picture of Lacey with Daddy and Mary. Lacey did not want to take a picture with Daddy and Mary. She had liked taking a picture with Daddy and Mary after their wedding but now taking a picture with Mary in it made it like Mary was her new Mommy but no one could replace Mommy. Lacey did not say to anyone what was wrong with taking the picture, but finally Daddy asked, "Should we put Mommy in the picture too?"

Lacey was confused but understood when Daddy handed her a framed picture to hold of Mommy. She grasped the picture of Mommy in a hug, her arms crossed over her picture below Mommy's head before the camera flashed. Aunt Jane had to take another picture without the flash.

Lacey also took a picture with her little brother Charlie, Aunt Louisa and her family. Again she held Mommy's picture against her chest.

Charlie did not stay for the service; Aunt Louisa wheeled his stroller to another room where he would play along with some of their cousins. Daddy said she could go, too, but Lacey wanted to be with Daddy and properly say goodbye to Mommy.

The service was long and Lacey found herself yawning. The minister talked about God and hope and then different people talked about why Mommy was special to them. Lacey sat between Daddy and Mary and she remembered snuggling next to Daddy with his arm around her and feeling safe and sleepy. She liked hearing Uncle Charlie talking about when Mommy was a girl but then Uncle Charlie started crying and did not finish whatever he was going to say.

Then there were the other men who spoke. Lacey recognized one of them. He had a sleepover with Mommy and he talked about how fun and full of life Mommy was.

Afterwards, they took the flowers to Uncle Charlie's house and there was a lot of food. Lots of people had big plates of food and talked and talked. Lacey just stared at the plate of food Mary had fixed for her. Mary had done a good job and picked out things that Lacey normally liked, but Lacey did not want to eat any of it. Mommy would never fix her a plate again.

It was summer vacation after that but Lacey wasn't excited. She stayed in her room a lot and stared out of the window. Daddy and Mary tried to do fun things with her, but nothing was fun. She tried to pretend like she was having fun, but it was all wrong.

Daddy had a worried look in his eyes when he looked at Lacey. Later, Daddy and Mary took her to see a counselor. The counselor wanted to play with her and talk with her. The counselor wanted her to draw pictures and share what she was feeling. Lacey couldn't do that; it would make Daddy sad if he knew she was sad. They kept taking her to see a counselor, but she still did not tell the counselor anything.

Lacey was happy when her little brother Charlie came to live with Daddy and Mary. Charlie needed her help. Charlie needed her hugs. Charlie did not ask her questions about what she was feeling or look at her with pity.

It would have been easier if Charlie had been sad, too, but she was not even sure that Charlie really remembered Mommy. Charlie recognized her in the picture in Lacey's room, the picture she and Mommy had taken when they were all dressed up, but the person who Charlie really missed was Aunt Louisa. But Aunt Louisa wasn't dead; she was just sick. She still visited sometimes and talked to Charlie over video chat. She talked with Lacey, too, but Lacey knew that it was really Charlie that Aunt Louisa wanted to talk to.

Charlie also had his daddy, who took him to do fun things. It really wasn't fair that Charlie had two daddies. Well, okay her daddy was not really Charlie's dad, but he acted like a dad with him.

Charlie belonged to Mommy, but Mommy was gone. Still, Mommy should still be his mommy too, but Charlie was calling Mary "Mommy" and Mary was happy about this. Lacey could tell as she always smiled a bit when Charlie said it, even if he was in a bad mood when he said it and complaining about something.

Lacey would not call Mary "Mommy" because Mary was not Mommy. Lacey remembered how when Daddy and Mary told her that they were getting married that Mary had said, "I know you have a Mommy and I am not taking your mommy's place; after we get married you will still see your mommy the same as always. That will never change. But I want you to know that I love both you and your daddy and you will be a big part of our family together. You already have a mommy, but now you have a Mary, too."

Mary hadn't meant to lie. Mary did not know that Mommy would die and after the wedding Lacey would not see Mommy anymore.

Sometimes when Lacey pretended things were okay, they would seem okay for a while. She would play and not feel guilty for playing. But she also knew she was different from the other children now.

The day before Mother's Day, after Lucy and her brothers arrived, Lacey tried very had to make sure Lucy had a good time. She could tell that Lucy was sad, too, but she did not know why Lucy was sad. Maybe it was because of Lucy's mother or maybe it was something else.

At church on Mother's Day, there was the annual baby baptism. This year there were four babies being held by their mothers and fathers. The minister gave a little speech about why they did this every year on Mother's Day because parents were important to raising children to love the Lord and that mothers should be honored for all they invested into their children. Lacey had not been there last year but she had heard about it from one of the other girls, Trish, whose little brother had been baptized. Trish had told her about how cute all the babies were.

As Lacey watched the babies get baptized, she had to admit that they were very cute. But as Lacey watched the babies with their mommies and daddies, she felt envious. It was bad enough when her parents had gotten a divorce, but it was so much worse now that she only had Daddy.

Later, there was the lunch with all the people. She sat next to Lucy and tried to get Lucy to laugh. But later, Lucy and her brothers left with Aunt Jane and she went with Daddy, the other children and the other daddies to the park.

Lacey remembered Jane from Aunt Catherine's house. She remembered dressing up as princesses with her. But though Jane tried to get Lacey to play, Lacey did not want to play. Instead she climbed to the highest spot she could on the jungle gym and sat there. She sat there until it was time to go and Daddy called her.

Daddy had that worried look in his eyes again. But he did not say anything to Lacey.

The rest of the day was uneventful but Lacey noticed that something was different between Daddy and Mary. She had noticed something was different for a couple of days now, but it was more obvious today. Daddy and Mary kept smiling at each other, some kind of a secret smile. Lacey was glad that something was making them glad, but felt left out.

Later that evening Daddy came to see her in her room. He was holding his phone. He told Lacey, "Cousin Georgiana is on the phone. She is asking if she and Aunt Catherine can video chat you in a little while."

"Why do they want to talk to me?" Lacey liked Georgiana and Aunt Catherine both, but she did not know them very well.

"Georgiana thinks you may be sad missing your mom. She misses her mom, too, just like Aunt Catherine misses her daughter. They thought you might want to talk to someone who understands."

Lacey did not know what she thought about this. She thought for a while and then said, "Okay, Daddy."

Daddy brought his laptop up to her room and plugged it in. He helped her start the video chat and then left her alone with the laptop. It was fun to see herself in the little screen and Georgiana and Aunt Catherine on the big screen. Lacey made a couple of silly faces at the computer. She was surprised when Georgiana and Aunt Catherine made silly faces back at her. But then it got to the serious stuff.

Georgiana started first, "I don't know about you, Lacey, but Mother's Day has been a very hard day since my mother died."

Aunt Catherine added, "It is a hard day for me, too, especially since my daughter Anne died."

Lacey was surprised to find out that grown ups could feel the same way, too.

"I don't think Daddy and Mary really understand. They both still have their mothers. But for me everything is different now," Lacey confided. It felt safe to talk to them. Their eyes were soft.

Georgiana responded, "It is hard to have someone you love die, and even harder when it is your mother. I always feel like I am missing something. I had more time with my mother than you had with yours, but it wasn't enough. Did you know that almost every Mother's Day I still cry because I miss her so much?"

Lacey could tell that Georgiana was telling her the truth. Even now, Georgiana's eyes looked sad.

Aunt Catherine added, "It is okay to feel however you feel, but it is also important to go on living your life. Life did not stop for you like it did for your mother, or my daughter or Georgiana's mother. It is hard to go on, but it is very brave to do it."

They talked on for a while. Then Georgiana told her, "The people who love you want to know how you are feeling. My husband Steve and my boys want to know when I am feeling bad. Your Dad and Mary love you. They know you have been feeling bad, even when you try to hide it. They want to help you, too."

When Lacey got off the video chat, she closed the laptop and took it to Daddy. He set it down next to him. Lacey climbed on his lap and put her arms around his neck. In her quietest voice she whispered to her daddy, "I miss Mommy."

Daddy hugged her back and said, "I know you do. It is okay to miss her. I want to know all about what you feel."

Then Lacey told him all about everything she had been thinking and feeling.

After the video chat ended, Georgiana and Aunt Catherine talked. "Do you think we helped?" Georgiana asked Aunt Catherine.

"I believe we did, but I think that conversation was as much for us as it was for her," Lady Catherine answered. "When I told her that she had to go on living her life, I realized that I haven't been doing a very good job of following my own advice. I've let my own grief keep me from doing much more than going through the motions. I haven't fallen apart, but I haven't really lived, either. But I have lost so much more than that sweet little child has. She still has so many people who love her and care about what happens to her. All I have is employees that care about getting their paychecks."

"That's not true," Georgiana told her. "You have me, and Fitz and Richard, plus our families, too."

"That is nice of you to say, dear, but you all have your own lives and families. I understand that, really I do."

"I love you and need you to be in my life," Georgiana insisted. "Who else would stand up to Steve's mom like you just did?"

Lady Catherine gave a slight smile. "I am sure Steve would have, after a while. He did make her leave, after all."

"But not until she called me the b-word. It will be the same as always I expect. He will lay down the law, she act like nothing every happened and she will behave for a while, but then it will all happen again in some other permutation we could not anticipate. He always hopes for the best, hopes she can change, but I don't believe that she will ever be better, ever really understand what she does to us. Or maybe she does understand but gets some sick enjoyment out of it somehow."

"Why don't you ever put your foot down? For sure, for good?" Lacy Catherine wanted to understand.

"I have before, but the fact is that despite all Sylvia Jones has put Steve through, he still loves her. It is just how things are."


	22. Having Children Is A Gift

__1st of 2 chapters posted today to complete this story.__

_FYI: There is discussion of molestation in this chapter, but there are lots of good moments, too._

**Chapter 22: Having Children Is A Gift; For Every Moment Of Heartache Or Worry, There Is Also A Moment Of Joy**

On the next Mother's Day, Mary was awake at about four a.m. having just retrieved the baby from the crib. It was so automatic now to fetch her baby, settle the baby down next to her in the bed, unlatch her nursing bra and attach the baby as she was laying on her side so her little one would nurse while Mary dozed. Mary had not expected the bed that she shared with Richard would become a family bed. When she told her sister Jane about their sleeping arrangements, her sister (as much as she tried to be sweet and supportive) seemed a bit horrified. Mary, in getting such a reaction from Jane, had not told anyone else about it.

Her "Cutie" or whatever silly nickname she had for their baby at that moment or that week (Mary had never thought she would be that kind of a mother with the silly nicknames, but somehow it felt so right to have multiple terms of affection for their little one), had a crib in the room and was always moved there for at least part of the night if Richard and Mary had amorous plans. Now, anytime Richard transferred the baby's soundly sleepy body to the crib, this had become a signal to Mary to become more aware of her own body and its desires.

Mary was sleepy and let herself start to doze off again. The tug of the baby on her breast and the release of milk felt good. She reveled in the fact that nursing her Little Joy had always been easy and that everyone she loved most in the world were safely tucked into their beds in her home.

Later, when Mary woke up again, she reattached her nursing bra and watched her Sweetie sleep for a few moments while she pondered whether to get up. The baby's little mouth still moved a bit in the motion of nursing, though fast asleep and likely detached for some time. Richard was lying on his side beyond their infant and seemed to be sleeping well.

Mary lightly stroked her baby's silky head and wondered if Lydia had ever felt about her children as Mary did, and if she had, how could it have all gone so wrong. Mary had thought Lydia would come back perhaps a day or two later and would see reason about what she should do, but Lydia did not come back. After consultation with Uncle Philips, the Bennets agreed they should try to get Lydia and Wickham to give them the authority to properly care for the children as their guardians, so they could enroll the children in school and be able to take them to the doctor. It would be easier if the state was not involved. Uncle Philips drafted the paperwork and her parents drove to the last address they had for Lydia while the Philips kept the children. However, the scene they were met with was not one they could have imagined.

Mrs. Bennet told Mary all about it in a phone call as Mr. Bennet was driving them home. "I don't know what I was expecting. I knew it had to be bad from what the children had described, but I thought we would wait there, get a motel room if we needed to and if they weren't there, they would eventually come home, but now there is no home for them to come back to."

"What do you mean?" Mary asked, picturing a building burned to ashes.

"Well, when we arrived we saw two men carrying items and bags of what appeared to be garbage outside and putting them on the curb, but we did not know which apartment they were taking the stuff from. When we walked up to Lydia's apartment on the second floor, we saw an eviction notice on the door. The door was propped open part way with a chair.

"At first I thought, or wanted to think that it was not their apartment, that we had somehow gotten the address or apartment number wrong, but I knew when we finished climbing the stairs and were on the landing. Near the door was a Barbie that must have been Lucy's but it was missing an arm and it was naked and its hair badly tangled. It was laying in some rotting leaves, discarded. I knew then that this was the right apartment, 2B.

"I don't know why, but I was compelled to pick up that Barbie. She was very dirty, had bit of mold on her and it looked like no one had cared about her for a long time. Suddenly I started to feel a bit sick and had to sit down on the steps. Your father waited patiently. I did not know exactly what we were waiting for, but then the two men climbed back up the stairs and I knew. They were cleaning out the apartment. One of them was already raising a bandanna from his neck to cover his mouth and nose to prepare to go back inside. I don't know if I mentioned it, but I could smell an awful stench through the propped door. Maybe that was a bit of the reason why I was feeling sick.

"Your father talked to them and found out all they knew about the eviction which wasn't much. One of the men told him that the apartment manager had a lot of problems with the tenants not paying their rent on time, but as he knew they had children, he had let them slide longer than normal. But when their neighbors were complaining about the smell, he decided to evict them and they left a few days later, leaving their keys with the neighbor.

"Your father is a very smart man as he explained who we were and asked to go look inside for anything that might belong to our grandchildren. The man looked at Tom like he was crazy and told him, 'I don't think you want to go in there. It is mostly just a pile of trash and rotting stuff. There is broken glass and we would get in trouble if you got hurt.' He reasoned with him for a while and boy can your father be persuasive when he wants to be (that's why I was already gone with Jane when we married after all), and finally they let him in. He was inside for perhaps ten or twenty minutes. He came back with a few framed photos from their walls, a partially deflated football, a naked doll and a little trophy of some kind. I asked your dad if that was it and he told me that there was nothing else worth taking.

"I told him I wanted to go in, too. He didn't want to let me at first, but I was determined. We went inside together. Oh Mary, no child should have to live in a place like that. There was broken glass, and dirty dishes that looked like they had been left for months, with awful green and blue mold growing from it and trash everywhere. And the smell. I don't know if someone used the living room for a bathroom or what, but the smell was just awful, overpowering. I felt like I should look under things, but I didn't want to pick anything up. It was all so dirty that it made my skin crawl. The mirror in the bathroom was smashed, there were holes in the walls."

"Things being broken and smashed might be new," Mary commented. "I have heard that sometimes tenants being evicted trash the place before they leave."

"Maybe so, but even if everything was not like that when the children were there, it must have been truly awful for months," Mrs. Bennet replied. "But I did find a pinch pot that one of the kids must have made in one of the kitchen cupboards (oh I forgot to mention all the roaches inside), and the baby blanket that Jane crocheted for Lucy was folded up on the top shelf of a closet. It was the only clean thing in the whole place."

The next day, her mom called social services as it was clear that there would be no easy way to track down the Wickhams. The state ended up obtaining emergency custody of the children but kept them living with the Bennets.

A few days after school let out, Mary and her mother were having lunch together, just the two of them. Making this possible were Aunt Philips, who was supervising Lydia's children, and Richard who was supervising their children (although Lacey and CB weren't really hers, Mary already thought of them as hers). Aunt Philips could always be counted on to help with Lydia's children though Mary privately thought that Aunt Philips was taking them on far more often than perhaps she ought.

But Aunt Philips when Mary had raised her concern said, "Nonsense. They are family and they keep me young." Mary did not think that Aunt Phillips needed much help staying young as although she was about sixty, she hardly seemed older than Richard in some ways.

Mary was just working her way around to talking to her mother about the baby and had placed the manila envelop on the table between them which contained her ultrasound photos, when her mother had confided in Mary, "I love George, Lincoln and Lucy very much, but I don't think I can keep raising them until they are all adults. I can see maybe getting the boys through middle school and high school; that is only four more years for George and six years for Lincoln, but Lucy has twelve more years of school left. Although they likely started out that way, these aren't regular kids anymore. They are harder, tougher. I know it isn't their fault, but what am I going to do? Do you think that you and Richard could take them?"

Mary thought her mom could not have had worse timing.

Oblivious to Mary's expression, her mother continued on, "I mean, I know you've always wanted children and even though it looks like that isn't going to happen, this could be perfect and would give you a house-full. . . or is it it a full house? Oh dear, I think that is a poker expression."

"Mom," Mary said gently, reaching out to lay a hand on her mother's arm and looking her mother straight in the eyes, "I am sorry this is being such a challenge to you, but Richard and I really couldn't do it, at least not now. CB needs so much extra help and the therapies are helping him to be more functional but we have a long road ahead with him. Also, it is about to get a whole lot tougher, but in a good way. Aren't you even curious as to what's in the envelop?"

Mrs. Bennet snatched the envelop off the table with a mildly disgruntled look on her face. It was like the expression that a spoiled child who has just had the happy meal she begged for might get on her face when told that, no, she could not also go out for ice cream.

However her facial expression changed immediately once she pulled out the ultrasound pictures, to one of heartfelt delight. "Is it? You mean? How can this be?"

"Mother, having had five daughters, I think you know well enough how something like this happens. Do you not?" Mary could not resist saying.

They talked for a while, but then something else occurred to Mrs. Bennet. She might not have been the quickest person to come to conclusions, but she was dogged about the things she cared about. "But you did not tell me first! I know you told Richard, and likely your sisters. . . ."

"Yes," Mary admitted. Richard had been right that her mother would not like that. But then she followed up in the way Richard had suggested, "But I waited to tell you because I knew you would be so excited that you would want to tell everyone and it would be hard to resist. But as of now, I am not keeping it a secret anymore. So after lunch you can be the first one to spread the word to everyone else! Also, these are extra copies, so you get to keep them!"

"Oh Mary!"

Her mother then questioned her in minute details about everything from what she had been eating since learning she was expecting, to when exactly she believed the baby was conceived, the date of her appointment and when she would have the big ultrasound, to what colors she planned for the nursery and what the theme would be. Her mother was rather disappointed to learn that Mary did not magically have a new room appear in her house that could be a nursery.

"You certainly must get a bigger house. All your children must have their own rooms!"

"Like we had?" Mary joked. Jane and Lizzy had shared a room, Mary had a tiny room to herself next to theirs which was mostly a glorified closet with a single window, with a little space stolen from the bedrooms on either side of it and then Kitty and Lydia had shared the last bedroom, beyond hers. "Just where do you think we would have put Lydia's three children, if I had said, 'okay' to taking them? Even if we could buy a bigger house it would take some time."

As Mary had not said yes to taking Lydia's children, Fanny made similar inquires as to her other daughters about whether they might want to take the children. From what Mary heard, her sisters were diffident to such plans. Catherine had told Mary, "I mean I love Lydia and I love her children, too, but if I had wanted more children I would have had my own." Elizabeth told her, "I know we are the logical choice, but don't you think if we all discourage Mom that after a while she will just accept that she is the best choice?"

However, Mrs. Bennet was dogged in her goal that someone else should take the children. Therefore, a few months later Mrs. Bennet proclaimed it was time for a family meeting to sort out long-term plans for Lydia's children. It was arranged for the evening of a Thanksgiving dinner that miraculously everyone could attend. The children were all in the basement watching a movie and with a couple neighborhood teenagers supervising the little ones the most, but generally making sure that everyone got along. All of the Bennet daughters (save Lydia of course) and their spouses were there, plus the Philipses.

First the meeting was on the logistics of when they could meet in December for a Christmas dinner and whether or not they should have their dirty Santa gift exchange this year. When Mrs. Bennet tried to press Mary and Richard about their availability, Mary refused to commit, telling her, "You know that this baby could arrive at any time and I'm not sure when I'll be ready to go out with him or her."

This was followed by a few minutes of pestering by her mother, who first bemoaned once again that Mary had decided not to find out whether she was having a boy or a girl. Mary said as she had many times before, "This is most likely the only child I am going to have. I want to be surprised."

Then Mrs. Bennet started discuss the arrangements she wanted made for Mary's labor. She kept insisting, "The minute you think you are in labor, you must call me! It is the time in life when every woman needs her mother by her side."

Mary did not wish to hurt her mother's feelings, but she also did not wish to agree to such a scheme. She remembered hearing from Jane (who had deferred far too much to her mother during her first pregnancy), how though her mother tried to be helpful and supportive during labor, that she could not be quiet when Jane needed to concentrate on letting her body do what it needed to do. Jane, sweet kind-hearted Jane, had finally yelled at her mother to get out and it had been up to her husband to make sure it got done. Her mother had ended up with hurt feelings and had complained afterwards to everyone about how ill used she was.

Richard could see Mary's dilemma and decided to step into the breech. "While that is awfully kind of you Mrs. Bennet, all decisions of that sort are Mary's to make. A woman laboring should endeavor to do it in the manner which she thinks will be best for her. My personal preference is that this be a memory that she and I alone (with the medical staff of course) make together, but I am not insisting on this. If she decides she wants me with her then, well I will do it, and should she want one of her sisters there instead of me, well then I should defer. Whatever the woman having the baby wants shall surely be done and no one will criticize her choices." Looking straight at Mrs. Bennet he said more firmly, "And I mean no one!"

Jane, Elizabeth and Catherine were quick to echo how this was really Mary's choice to make. Then Richard asked, "Mary, what is it that you would like?"

Mary knew he already knew the answer but was asking so that she could make it clear to her mother once and for all in front of witnesses. Mary said, "Mother, as kind as your answer is, I would prefer, I think, to labor on my own at home as long as I can, and then when I need to go to the hospital I would like to have you and/or Aunt Philips take care of Lacey and CB so that I can labor without worrying about their well-being and have Richard with me.

Mrs. Bennet harrumphed, but at least she did not continue to insist.

Then Mrs. Bennet presented her case as to Lydia's children, "With Tom seventy-seven and me having just turned seventy-one (no, I am not really 35 even if that is the number on all of my birthday cakes), we are just too old to raise Lydia's children and so someone else must step up. Mary and my sister have helped a lot of course since they are so nearby, but it is still too much. Social services will have to approve you, but it is likely that all of you would qualify. We don't want our grandchildren ending up in foster care of course, but we just want to be their grandparents and not their parents."

Jane spoke up first. "As much as I would like to help, I realistically can't give them the attention and time they need. Of course we would take them if it is the only alternative, but I am almost sure it would be better if someone else would."

Kitty spoke next, "With all the traveling I have to do for my job, I don't think I am a good choice. Also, they barely know me."

Richard spoke then, "Mary and I have full plates. Between CB and the new baby arriving soon, I don't think we can take three more children on. We could probably do more to help the Bennets if they were to decide to keep the children with them, though."

Elizabeth reassured Richard and Mary, "No one really expects you to take on three more children now. You are already raising CB and about to have a newborn."

"What do you think of all this, Dad?" Mary asked her father and everyone shifted to look at him.

"I want to do what makes your mom happy. Just like with you girls, most of the burden of raising Lydia's children has fallen on her. The statistical odds are against me living long enough to see them all launched."

He gave a little sigh and Elizabeth suddenly realized that her father wasn't just getting old; he was old. He had gotten shorter, having a permanent hunch now, his hair was mostly white, and he was dependent on reading glasses, hearing aids and a cane. He was nearing eighty after all.

Mr. Bennet then proceeded to tell them, "The children have a lot of challenging behavior that anyone who raises them will have to deal with. I suppose it is only right that it comes home to roost on us as maybe if we'd done a better job reining Lydia in or keeping her away from older boys, her life might have turned out differently."

"Don't say that!" Elizabeth declared vehemently. "Lydia is in her 40s and made her own choices. The drugs or at least things being this bad can't have been going on for very long."

"Elizabeth, you and your sisters tried to tell me when she was younger that we needed to be more strict. I should have listened. I feel guilty for the role I played. Don't you worry, I am sure that feeling will pass sooner than it ought."

"What kind of challenging behaviors, Dad?" Mary asked. She was sure her mother had talked everyone's ears off about it, but it was possible she hadn't discussed everything with everyone. Also she was eager to turn the topic away from her father's self-flagellation and hear his take on it.

"Well, George is often very angry. He has very big feelings about all of this. I think the weekly counseling sessions are helping, but he is still getting in a lot of fights at school. Last time he was suspended for a week and they've said if it happens again we are looking at an alternative school placement for him.

"Lincoln has a lot of issues with food insecurity. He keeps hiding food in his room. You know your mom keeps a fine table and feeds them well at every meal, but he keeps eating like every meal might be his last and gets up to eat in the middle of the night, too. He's gained so much weight that his doctor has warned us about the strain that is putting on his heart and the increased risk of adult onset diabetes. A kid his age shouldn't be eating like a Nazi concentration camp survivor or getting stretch marks.

"And Lucy, well she is a sweet little thing but they think she has an attachment disorder. She offers her affection freely to anyone, whether she's known them all her life or met them thirty seconds ago."

He placed a hand across his face and closed his eyes for a few moments. Mary knew that worse was to come and even though she was pretty sure she knew all about what he would say, she shuddered a little and gently rubbed her turgid belly, saying in her head to the baby, _Mama will keep you safe._

"Lucy acted rather familiarly with a male student teacher at the beginning of the school year, climbing into his lap when he was reading the children a story and, well, kind of rubbed herself against him. The regular teacher saw it and completely absolves him. The student teacher repeatedly told the children that he couldn't hug them but he could give high-fives and fist bumps and had already told Lucy not to sit on his lap more than once. He ended up being moved to assisting in another classroom. The school and her private counselor suspect Lucy has been molested and she is only to be placed with female teachers going forward."

Catherine got a little white then and it was evident she had not heard this part of what the Bennets were up against. "Who could have done that to that little girl?"

"We don't know for sure, but from what George and Lincoln have told us, when they got home from school and their mother and Lucy weren't home, sometimes it was because their mother took Lucy with her when she went to get drugs. A flop house where people are getting high isn't a good place to bring a young child and it is even worse if her mother gets high while there and forgets all about watching her child. Our social worker said it isn't unheard of for addicted parents to prostitute their young children for drugs, but in Lucy's case since an exam did not reveal evidence of any obvious past trauma (which there certainly would be at her age), if that occurred it was probably more inappropriate touching than penetration. I cannot think it of Lydia to actually sell time with her child; to my mind it is more likely that she left her unprotected with inappropriate men."

Everyone was quiet for a while, thinking about what Mr. Bennet said.

Elizabeth spoke up, "I suppose Willy and I are the most logical choice and we have talked about it some, knowing that this would be discussed tonight." Fitzwilliam squeezed her hand. "We have the most room, but I am concerned about these behaviors. Would they be safe to be around other children? This is all a little much and I don't want to commit if it turns out we could not see it though. God knows those poor children have been through enough and I hate to see them go through more, and that more would be being with us for a while and then having to live elsewhere. We would need to see how well they would get along with our children and make sure they are safe to be around them before entertaining the possibility of any placement with them."

Mary nodded. She had not expected her sister to be quite so blunt but she'd had the same sorts of conversations with Richard. The other possibility which the social worker had told the Bennets was that Lucy had been molested by a family member, which could be her father or her brothers. The social worker said she did not think it was likely that her brothers had hurt her because all the interactions she had observed between them were appropriate, but there was no real way to know what had happened to Lucy.

The social worker also mentioned that sexualized children could act out past abuse with other children, which was something Mary had made sure that Elizabeth heard about when they had privately talked about the possibility of Elizabeth raising them. When Lydia's children visited, Mary now never left them alone with Lacey and CB. She had no reason to believe that anything bad had happened when Lucy spent that one night sharing Lacey's bed, but there was also no need to take chances. It was hard to tell the girls "no" to sleepovers when they had become close friends, the losses they had experienced apparently helping them to bond.

"Then are we agreed that the Darcys should see about taking the steps to find out if they might be the right ones to take the children?" Mrs. Bennet asked. There were some mumbles and nods of agreement, but then she heard a strident, "No!"

It was George, who had just come up from the basement stairs, with Lincoln just behind him.

"Why are you the ones that get to decide what to do with us? Shouldn't anyone ask us? We aren't just garbage to be thrown away or given to anyone who will take us." George looked angry and Mary feared he might punch another hole in the wall as he had done not two weeks prior.

Lincoln, who was munching on a big bag of chips (how he had room after his enormous Thanksgiving dinner did not even make sense to Mary), added in a half mumble as his mouth was still stuffed full of chips, "I know who I want if Grandpa and Grandma can't keep us."

"Yes, of course you should be asked," Mrs. Philips encouraged when everyone else was still dumbfounded and embarrassed. George seemed to calm down at her acknowledgement. "You are certainly old enough to have some say in your own future. We all know you've had little enough say until now."

"You," said Lincoln. "I want to live with you, Aunt and Uncle Philips."

Mary could tell from Aunt Philips's expression that she had not expected him to say that. Her eyes were bright with emotion.

"Lincoln is right," George proclaimed. "That is what I want, too."

Aunt Philips was shaking her head like it did not make any sense. "But your Aunt Lizzy has a bigger house; she could give you so much more than we could."

"Maybe so," George answered, "but she has her own children and so does everyone else, too. So why can't we be your kids? I know you would be stricter than Grandma and Grandpa, but that is 'cause you and Uncle Philips love us. Grandma and Grandpa are great, but Grandma gets upset too easily and Grandpa just wants to hide away and read his books. I know you are both kind of old, but you aren't as old as Grandma and Grandpa and I don't think you are too old."

Just then, Lucy opened the basement door and said, "Why did you guys come up here? You are missing the movie." Mary noted how nicely she had filled out since she had first arrived in Meryton. She looked healthy now and much happier.

"We are up here, Lucy, because we are talking about where we should live if we don't live with Grandpa and Grandma anymore," George told her.

"I miss Mommy and Daddy," Lucy said with a sad expression on her face.

"But we can't go back home; Mom and Dad aren't even there anymore," Lincoln told her. "Would you like to live with Uncle and Aunt Philips?"

Lucy nodded and smiled. Of course maybe she would have nodded and smiled regardless of who she was asked to live with, but it seemed like more than that to Mary. Of course that was not the end of the discussion and many things had to be worked out first.

Before even a preliminary meeting had been held to discuss the possibility with the social workers, Mary went into labor. She had read several books, had taken the hospital course and even taken a hypnobirthing course, but nothing could have prepared her for the actual feeling of being in labor. Quite early on, she had Richard take the children over to Aunt Philips while she stayed in the tub. She stayed in the tub for hours, periodically emptying some of the water and adding fresh hot water to keep it warm. Finally, when she felt the contractions warranted it, Mary asked, "Richard, can you help me dry off and get dressed?" As she began to stand, another contraction immediately hit her and she felt a sudden gush that she thought might be her water. Looking back down at the tub she saw that it was tinged with pink. Nothing to worry about, she told herself.

Richard had to help her put of her panties and then fetch her a pad (she was sure she was leaking now). He had to help her put a loose stretchy maternity dress on and put her Crocs on (that was all she could fit on her feet these days with the swelling). As he helped her walk to the car, Mary kept being hit with contractions and paused each time. It took them about ten minutes to get to the car in this way. Fortunately they only lived a few minutes from the hospital. When they reached the hospital and its maternity department, the nurse took one look at Mary and fetched a wheel chair.

She had only been lying in the hospital bed for a few minutes and had not even gotten the hospital gown on yet or been seen by the doctor when an annoying lady arrived to ask Mary admission questions. The lady seemingly had no compassion on Mary by repeatedly asking her the stupid questions for her form, while Mary struggled to wrap her mind around the most basic of information as her body was repeatedly hit with pains. Suddenly Mary cried out, certain, "I think the baby is coming, now!"

The annoying lady ran and fetched someone while Richard helped Mary pull her panties down. A doctor Mary had never seen before did not even introduce himself before he flipped up Mary's dress and said, "She is right, the baby is crowning now." He then said, "Breathe, don't push yet."

Mary huffed and puffed, she had a very strong urge to push but she was also trying to battle it. There was a sudden flurry of activity as he put on his gloves and then lowered the bottom part of the bed (which separated from the rest of it) to better access her crotch while other people arrived.

When the doctor finally said she could push, Mary bore down with all her might as she grunted. She did that one, two, three times. It hurt but it also felt good to be doing something. Finally, she felt the pain ease and a slithering sensation. The next instant, there was a lack of all sensation and no sound except a gentle huffing sound, a little suctioning and then the sound of a wiping towel. Then the baby, still wet, naked and a little chalky was deposited on her chest, facing her. Mary tentatively touched the baby's hair. It was dark with being wet and a little blood.

"Now give me one more push, Mary," the doctor instructed. She did and she felt something plop out of her. "Ah, the afterbirth is intact," he told her. "You'll just need a few stitches. She felt herself get injected, which hurt, but she focused all her attention on the baby against her which had now been covered.

"What is it?" Richard asked. He was leaning over the side of the hospital bed, right next to Mary. All he could see earlier was the baby's bottom and now that was covered as well.

Mary shook her head. She didn't know. She had been too busy counting delicate almost translucent fingers. Someone placed a hat on the baby, someone else smeared medicine in the baby's eyes. Mary had heard about that before; it was done on all newborns.

The doctor paused from his stitches, "You didn't know going into it? Well, you've got yourself a son."

"A son," Richard repeated, his eyes soft and the barest of smiles on his lips. He bent over and kissed Mary on the cheek and then kissed their son on his cap. He lovingly ran his fingers along his son's back. "I'm your Daddy," he said. Suddenly his eyes were too bright and wet. Mary wondered if he was about to cry or would hold himself back. He pressed his lips together fighting to control it, but then suddenly stopped trying and a few tears spilled down his cheeks.

Mary, who hadn't thought she was at all on the verge of crying suddenly found herself not just crying but sobbing. "He is here; he is here," she repeated to herself. "Your mommy loves you. We are a real family together now."

A few minutes passed and Mary wiped her tears away with the edge of the blanket. When she trusted herself to speak again, Mary asked, "Are we still decided on the name?"

"If you are," Richard replied. "After all you've gone through you could name him anything and I would not object."

"I don't think 'Anything' would be a very good name," Mary quipped. "I still like what we picked . . . Jonathan Michael Fitzwilliam."

"It is perfect," Richard told her.

Mary knew she loved Richard and Lacey and CB and her parents and her sisters and her aunt and uncle, but it was a different, instinctual, primal sort of love toward her son. She felt an alteration in everything and reveled in it. Later her mother came to visit with Lacey and CB. Both of them crawled on Mary's bed on either side of her, while she held Jonathan Michael in her arms. As Richard leaned forward, Mrs. Bennet took a photo. But between just enjoying the moment and answering the children's questions, Mary never did see the photo.

It took a few more months until Lydia's children finally, formally, moved in with the Philipses. Mary, with baby Jonathan tied to her front in an elaborate wrap which always seemed to require Richard's assistance to assemble, helped to welcome them home with a well-attended party. Like a housewarming party, there were gifts. Some were for them as a family and some were for individual children and the Darcys had paid for new furniture for their rooms (one room for the boys and one for Lucy). Lacey was excited that her new favorite cousin Lacey would be living only a short walk away.

On Mother's Day morning, the Fitzwilliam family stood in front of the church as Jonathan Michael was baptized. He screamed when the water was poured over his head, but Lacey distracted him by gently bopping him on the nose as CB squeezed his hand. Mrs. Bennet took a photo and she was not the only one.

Two days later, Mrs. Bennet rang their doorbell in the late afternoon. It was perhaps a half an hour after Lacey had gotten off the regular bus and CB had gotten off the preschool bus. Mrs. Bennet was bearing a package and waving it around when they opened the door. "Open it," she urged, thrusting the package at Mary, "it is a late Mother's Day present."

Everyone was in the living room with Richard settled in an armchair with Jonathan while Lacey and CB were playing Connect Four. Lacey helped CB up and they stood nearby, curious, as Mary unwrapped the package. Inside was a frame with two pictures, the picture at the hospital and the picture at the church. On top, the frame said, "Family."


	23. Epilogue

_2nd of 2 chapters posted today to end this story._

**Epilogue**

About four months after Mother's Day, Mary went to her ob/gyn for her annual appointment. Once again she had to delay it based on appointments for CB.

Mary planned to ask Dr. Beasley why she hadn't resumed getting her period yet. She knew from everything she had read that some women might not get it for a long time if they were nursing their babies. But Mary felt a little off to herself, almost a bloated feeling. She was also so tired all the time, but who wouldn't be with caring for children and a young baby?

Mary had taken Jonathan with her to the appointment as he still nursed frequently and did not like to take a bottle. When the nurse fetched her for her vitals, she pushed him in his stroller through the door. When Dr. Beasley came in to give Mary her exam, she spent a few moments admiring the baby. "Now you are a handsome fellow, aren't you. Are you letting your mommy get any sleep?"

Mary talked with her doctor a while before the exam. Dr. Beasley asked about Mary breastfeeding and told her she could not have a mammogram while she was still nursing.

Mary discussed her concerns about not having a cycle and told Dr. Beasley, "I'm guessing it is from the breastfeeding, but part of me wonders if perhaps I am entering menopause and will never get my period again."

The doctor had just finished reassuring Mary that after having a baby, and especially with exclusively breastfeeding, it was perfectly normal not to have a regular cycle for a while. She offered to send Mary for labs to see what was going on if she was interested.

Dr. Beasley then checked her laptop and observed, "I know you didn't want to go on the mini-pill while nursing, so what kind of birth control have you been using?"

Mary laughed. "Between nursing and being in my 40s, isn't that enough?"

The doctor got a bit of a serious look on her face. "For most people it would be, but I know we have discussed change of life babies before. Let's go ahead and do your pap smear."

Mary felt like her doctor was looking at her disapprovingly. The doctor performed her pap smear in silence, the nurse as always in attendance. Then Mary sat up.

Dr. Beasley's face was still serious, but Mary thought she saw a bit of amusement in her doctor's eyes.

"What is it?"

"Oh, Mary, I am not sure if this is good news or bad news, but judging based on the color of your cervix, I think you may be pregnant again."

Dr. Beasley dutifully ordered labs and had Mary pee in a cup. Once again, Mary got the two lines.

With shaking hands, Mary texted Richard from the parking lot before she pulled out:

_I am going to be home in a few minutes. I really need to talk to you._

Richard was waiting outside when Mary pulled into the driveway. He took one look at Mary and asked, "What is wrong?"

"Nothing!" Mary felt bemused. She worked at getting Jonathan Michael out of his car seat before she handed him to Richard and then announced, "Apparently we have done it again."

"Done what?" Richard quirked his eyebrow while swaying with Jonathan. "Are you sure you are okay?"

"I'm pregnant," Mary told him. She wasn't sure how Richard would feel. They had never really talked about having another child. It had just seemed to unlikely to even worth be thinking about. "I didn't really think it could happen with my age and with nursing Jonathan."

"Oh, Mary. That's wonderful! How our little family is growing!" Richard shifted Jonathan to a one armed hold so that he could pull Mary into his embrace.

Mary was about five months pregnant when CB started to be transitioned back to living with his father who had married a few months earlier. Mary cried a lot of tears over that but made sure not to cry them in front of CB. Richard reacting not by crying but by being angry and railing against the unfairness of it all. But both of them tried to be positive to CB about his future as they knew that they had no right to keep him. However, on the day that CB officially moved out, Mary and Lacey couldn't help but sob after he left.

Lacey said, "It is just not fair. First I lost Mommy and now I am losing Charlie, too." It was then up to Mary to reassure Lacey that she wasn't losing Charlie, even though Mary feared it might be true.

CB did not vanish from their lives, but his time in their lives was greatly reduced, to one weekend a month and having a few video chats in between. Fortunately, though, Eric was as faithful in bringing CB to see them that one weekend a month as he had been about exercising his own visitation with him.

Technically they did not have a right to anything, but Eric wanted CB to spend time with his sister Lacey and her family. If it had not been for the new life growing within her, Mary would have been very depressed.

Mary had a baby girl via emergency c-section on Mother's Day when the baby's cord prolapsed. She got whisked into the OR so quickly and then put to sleep that she really didn't have time to be scared. Recovering from a c-section was no joke, but she dutifully got up and walked when they wanted and opted not to stay the three days she was allowed in the hospital as she just wanted to be home with her children.

Having Melinda "Lindy" Francis eased some of the pain Mary felt when she first heard CB refer to his new step-mother as "Mom." For a while after that, they were both Mom.

About a year later, Eric told them that his new wife would be adopting CB and they were invited to the adoption party. The Fitzwilliams did attend the party, even though it hurt to do so. They were happy that CB mostly seemed happy, though he did whisper to them when they left, "Sometimes I wish I could just go back home with you to stay." However, CB did continue to be a part of their lives and as an adult considered the Fitzwilliams to be his other parents, even though he had long ago gone back to calling Mary by her first name and had never called Richard anything other than Rich.

Elizabeth never had anymore children, but when she heard about Mary's second pregnancy she felt more wistful than genuine envy. By this time she had taken up painting as a hobby and devoted her free-time to that.

When the Darcy children were all out of the house, Elizabeth and her husband became world travelers. Elizabeth enjoyed visiting all the countries she had read about one by one and having all these adventures with Willie. She realized that she never would have had the opportunity to do this if they had been successful in having another child. She still loved babies and became a terrific grandmother to her children's children, but was always glad to give them back after no longer than a weekend.

After about three months of not seeing Sylvia after she insulted Georgiana, Steve and Georgiana ended up scheduling to see Sylvia about once a month. If the visit went well, they scheduled the next visit. If it didn't go well, they skipped the next month. This proved to be such a successful approach that Steve's brothers began to eventually join them for some of the visits. If Georgiana never felt especially close with her mother-in-law, at least she felt that she was manageable.

Aunt Catherine ended up being a more frequent visitor to the Jones home than Sylvia did, even though she lived much farther away. Although the children always called her Aunt Catherine, she took the place of a grandmother in the hearts of Georgiana's children.

Lady Catherine also did more to live her own life. Having heard a lot from Richard and Mary about the challenges that foster children faced and how blessed Lydia's children were that they were able to stay with family, Lady Catherine became inspired to do something. While she wasn't prepared to become a foster parent herself, she founded an organization which after a few false starts became focused on recruiting older parents whose children had died to become mentors for children in foster care. The group was called Bonus Grandparents and gradually expanded to include any older adults who wanted to bring some extra love into children's lives.

Lady Catherine mentored several children herself until she died at the ripe old age of 93. In her will, while she made bequests to her family members and left college funds to her grand nieces and nephews, most of her fortune went to continue to fund the Bonus Grandparents organization.

More than one hundred adults who were involved in the program as either Bonus Grandparents or foster children attended her funeral which had all the pomp and circumstance that she could have wanted. The monument erected at her graveside was truly impressive.

The Philips adopted and raised George, Lincoln and Lucy after the Wickhams' parental rights were terminated due to neglect and abandonment. The warning attorneys who were charged with finding them were not able to locate them, so it was unknown if they knew what happened to their children. George and Lincoln opted to keep the Wickham name, more because they thought it would be a bother to change it, rather than having any true attachment to their old father, while Lucy happily became a Philips.

Mr. Bennet turned out to be correct that he would not live to see all of the Wickham children reach adult-hood. He was found one morning collapsed across his desk with an open book beneath his head. It was hard for Mrs. Bennet. Although she did not really understand her husband, she did love him. She stayed in their home because she felt closer to her husband there and, as she said, "If Lydia ever wants to come home, I want her to be able to find me."

A couple of years after that Lydia did turn up outside the Bennet home. She was almost skeletal, her hair thin and dull, and her mother did not recognize her until she started to speak. Lydia said, "I want to see my babies."

Mrs. Bennet brought Lydia inside and fixed her some food. Lydia only picked at it.

"When will I get to see my babies?" Lydia asked.

"They aren't here," Mrs. Bennet told her, "and they aren't your babies anymore. They were adopted by the Philipses; Lucy is a teenager and the boys are grown."

"I must see my babies," Lydia insisted. "I know I failed them and I want to tell them that I am sorry."

Mrs. Bennet felt bad for Lydia, but she knew how much the children had suffered. "I don't know if they will want to see you. I think it should be their decision and not yours."

She sent George, Lincoln and Lucy a group text:

_Lydia Wickham is at my house. She does not look well but I do not think she is very drunk or high. She says, "I want to see my babies." She admitted knowing that she failed you and says she wants to tell you that she is sorry._

George: _She isn't my mother anymore and has not been for a long time. She doesn't get to salve her conscience by seeing me now. I don't want anything to do with her.  
_

Lucy:_ What is wrong with her?  
_

Lincoln: _I am an adult and am not a baby or a plaything.  
_

Fanny: _I am not sure what is wrong with her, only that she is super thin and sickly looking.  
_

Lucy: _Ask her how old she thinks we are._

Fanny:_ I asked and she doesn't seem to know. She guessed, Lucy, that you are 10._

Lucy:_ I am curious about what has happened with her, but I more want to have the information than to see her. Can you ask where she has been and what she has been doing? Can you ask what happened to her husband?_

Fanny:_ I asked and I don't know if she is trying to be deceptive or she really doesn't know. She says she hasn't seen George since they were evicted. She says she's been partying a lot and doing whatever she needs to get by. I think that probably means she's been prostituting herself._

Lucy: _Can you try to get her help?_

Fanny: _I will try._

Lincoln: _If she can get and stay sober, I might be willing to see her._

George: _I am done with her; I don't care what she does._

Fanny: _She doesn't want to get help, she is now wandering away down the street. She might be on her way to your parents' house. I wonder if she would remember how to find it. She is going really slowly so I could easily catch up to her if I wanted to. It is hard to recognize anything in her that resembles the daughter that I had. I never wanted this kind of life for her. I am very sad._

That was the last time anyone heard from Lydia directly. However about two years later, Fanny received a call telling her that Lydia had died. They had identified Lydia based on an expired driver's license that she had on her. Fanny was privately surprised that Lydia had kept anything from her old life.

Fanny was asked if she wanted to claim the body as next of kin. She did claim Lydia's body, paid to have her buried and erected a small plaque on the site. It said nothing besides her name and the dates. Lucy was the only one of her children who visited the grave.

Mrs. Bennet was never the same after Lydia died, but she continued to be a doting mother and grandmother who always insisted on feeding anyone who visited her. When she passed away a few years later, she was missed.

George did not go to college. He worked a series of blue collar jobs in factories and eventually became a union representative at a major American car manufacturer. When George was thirty, he was idly googling his own name when he came across a mug shot for his father. After doing some research, he learned his father was ten years into completing a lengthy sentence in federal prison for drug manufacturing.

George wrote to his father telling his father all the ways his father had failed him, never expecting to hear back. But his father did write back and wrote him what seemed to be a heart-felt apology. After exchanging a few letters, George traveled to see his father. He was disappointed to realize when he was visiting that his father seemed to assume that George would now give him money for the commissary. George felt like he was being used. George did not visit his father again and did not answer his letters.

Although after a couple of years, Lincoln's eating eased up, he remained a chubby teen and not all the Nike, Adidas, and Under Armour clothes could hide that. After a few years of being overweight, Lincoln got dared to train for a marathon. He put all his energy into training, lost more than fifty pounds and was able to compete in one and complete it about a year later. He ended up becoming employed as a trainer at a gym and eventually bought a gym franchise. He married a very attractive trainer in his gym and they had two children. The Philipses really enjoyed being doting grandparents to their children and when they passed on they were dearly missed.

Lucy struggled with the growing up process. She sought out inappropriate relationships with men when she had barely become a teen and flunked the ninth grade when she started abusing drugs. Fortunately, Mrs. Philips had made her get the birth control implant when she first got her period a couple of years before that. The doctor had hesitated to give a girl of that age the implant, but became convinced when Mrs. Philips told her about how she had caught Lucy sneaking a boy into her room.

After Lucy failed ninth grade, her parents got Lucy into a treatment program for teens who abused drugs and had suffered abuse. After Lucy came back from that program, she told Mrs. Philips, "Mom, I now understand why I have been so unhappy, but I don't want to talk about it." A few weeks later, she told her, "When I was little, there were some men who did very bad things to me. I wish I could forget them, but they are always with me. I feel dirty. I feel broken."

Mrs. Philips of course reassured her daughter that she had done nothing wrong. This proved to be a turning point in Lucy's life. She was able to successfully complete the ninth grade the following year and graduated high school at age 20. When she went to college and was away from home, things fell apart again and she began to use drugs, failed her classes and lost her scholarship.

The Philips sent her to another drug treatment program. After Lucy completed the program, she moved back in with the Philips at age 22. She worked and attended community college part time. She earned an associates degree in childcare but found she could not get a job in the industry when she disclosed to potential employers about her past drug abuse. Eventually she went back to school for an accounting degree and found she really enjoyed the order in that kind of work. She also volunteered to provide childcare at her church and after a few years was the one in charge of the whole program. She found joy in caring for the children and putting some use to her earlier degree.

Although Lucy adored children, she told her mother when she was about twenty-five, "I am not sure I ever want to marry and I know for sure that I never want to have children of my own. Inside me dwells parts of Lydia and George senior; I don't trust myself not to wreck my kids' lives."

Lucy remained close friends with Lacey. She was her maid of honor when Lacey married and served as the godmother to her children. Lucy was a bit envious of how well things seemed to be working out for Lacey, but was also grateful that Lacey still made time for her with all of her commitments.

When Lucy was thirty-six, she met a nice librarian who was forty. He recommended books for her to read and she read them. Lucy found herself visiting the library about twice a week when Ron White was scheduled to work. She found herself telling him her life story piece by piece. Eventually Ron asked her out on a date. Their relationship grew slowly. Ron did not want to scare her away. But after five years of dating, they married. They chose not to have children. Ron would have liked to be a father, but he did not push Lucy in this.

However, after about five years of being married, Ron asked Lucy if she might be interested in being a foster parent. She was interested and they took the classes, but she was worried she would not be approved after she had to disclose her past drug addiction. Fortunately, enough time had passed that in the end it didn't end up being a problem.

While Lucy was originally drawn to wanting to foster young children, after accepting a respite placement for two girls, a six-year-old and a fifteen-year-old, she realized she was drawn to fostering teens. As Lucy told her mom, "I was always scared of screwing up my own children if I had them, but these kids are already screwed up. It is a lot less pressure as if things turn out badly I am not the only one to blame. Also, teens seem the right fit because I have never forgotten how tough my own teen years were."

When Mrs. Philips tried to praise what a noble thing the Whites were doing, Lucy corrected her. "Anything I am doing now is because I had you, first. Mom, things could have turned out so differently for me if I had not been adopted by you and Dad. You never gave up on me, even when I gave up on myself. These kids need someone like that in their lives. I don't know that I will do as good of a job as you did, but I will do what I can."

Lucy and Ron fostered many teens and helped transition them to independent living. Though they never adopted any of them, they stayed as mom and dad to many of them. Their Thanksgiving dinners were epic with how many of these children came to eat with them until eventually they had families of their own. All was not easy for them however, they were threatened with violence, robbed and shed many tears over children that they were never able to fully reach. However, they also knew they made a difference to at least some of the children and for even those that they couldn't reach they at least temporarily provided a safe place to call home.


End file.
